


Dabbling in Soulmates

by G_the_G



Series: Kismet or Something Like It [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Fantastic Four (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Jurassic World - Fandom, Leverage, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Asexual Character, Asexual Natasha Romanov, Canon-Typical Violence, Clint Has Issues, Crack, Darcy is a bamf, F/M, Flirty Steve Rogers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Grumpy Eliot, Parker Being Parker, Romance, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sassy Steve Rogers, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Thor Is a Good Bro, Tony Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 45,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4574838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/G_the_G/pseuds/G_the_G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I decided to finally admit to the total soulmate AU trash that I am. So, here's some soulmate encounters that have been bouncing around in my brain. </p><p>More will be added later and tags will be updated as we go along!</p><p>Newest Chapters-</p><p>Chapter 22: Of Saunas and Soulmates (Darcy/Scott Lang)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Art History (Logan/Darcy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought Logan saying he taught art was hilarious. My crack-brain decided to come up with a reason why!

Logan needed a beer or to punch someone, preferably Summers, in the face. He figured Chuck would prefer the first option, so he stalked the halls of the mansion making his way to the staff kitchen. It had been a long day of training the new kids and putting up with Summers’ ‘I’m always right’ attitude. Yeah, always a right dick.

The students sensed he was testier than usual, so he made to the kitchen without any interruptions. Not that he noticed. It wasn’t until he was almost to the fridge, however, that he spotted Rogue sitting at the table with another woman around her age.

“Hey, Logan!” came the sugary-sweet voice from the other mutant.

He grunted, nodded, and yanked open the refrigerator door.  It was a good thing that Chuck had consulted with special industrial appliance makers; otherwise most of the kitchen would have needed replacing within two weeks. Logan figured he should thank the man as he pulled out a beer and shut the refrigerator door a little too firmly

He used a claw to pop off the top of his beer and took a long swig before leaning back against the counter to examine the women in front of him.

They had gone back to their conversation, apparently not offended by his gruff behavior. He observed their comfortable body language and figured the two knew each other and were pretty close. That meant the other woman must be Darcy Lewis. Chuck had wanted to start a new poli-sci course and Rogue recommended someone she knew back in high school. Apparently this friend was the Avenger’s Liaison and could add a useful spin on the class involving superheroes and present day politics.

Logan had been busy with training all week, but he still hadn’t been able to escape the excited babble from Rogue about Darcy finally coming. He had been prepared to dislike this Darcy Lewis because her arrival meant he hadn’t gotten a moment’s quiet the last week. Plus, she worked with the Avengers. Stark wasn’t half bad, but Rogers sometimes reminded him of Summers and Logan put up with enough sanctimonious leadership already.

But Logan was second-guessing his assumptions as he took in the woman in front of him. She had curves in all the places he liked, full lips he wanted to test, and an expressive face that probably made it hard for her lie to anyone. Not to mention she was already vetted by Rogue. No, the next three months were starting to look up. This Darcy would be staying at the mansion full time for the course and Logan figured if things worked out he might offer to help her with homework.

He slowly sipped his beer and started to pay attention to what Darcy was saying with such enthusiasm and impressive gesturing.

“So, let me get this straight. Ororo, who has a complex understanding of atmospheric science and can control the weather, is teaching Eastern European History. Kurt, who pretty much is Eastern European, is teaching drama. And Scott, who can’t help show-boating or trying to start a pissing contest any time the Avengers show up, is teaching ethics.”

Logan snorted and lively blue eyes shifted over to where he stood.

“At this rate it wouldn’t surprise me if you taught art.”

This time Logan choked on his beer. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t the words stamped across his left ass cheek. But with what he’d heard about this girl from Rogue, it made a hell of a lot of sense.  

Rogue started clapping excitedly and Darcy turned back to her friend.

“What, what’s with the happy clap?”

“I’m not saying. Not my place to tell,” came out between giggles.

“What are you talking about?”

Another giggle and a head shake came from the mutant.

“Nuh uh.”

“Fine.” Darcy spun back around in her chair to look at Logan questioningly.

“You want to fill me in on what’s going on?”

He chuckled setting his beer down and placed his hands on the island in front of him.

“I think Rogue’s already filled you in on all the important details.”

Darcy clasped her right hand to her ribs and whirled back to her friend.

“Those were… he said my…Did you know?!?”

“Not exactly.” Giggle.

Darcy leaned back in her chair and stared at her friend.

“Talk about self-fulfilling prophecy. I always thought you picking that name somehow jinxed it.”

“Apparently not! Now, stop freaking out. I’m leaving you two get acquainted. Play nice.”

Rogue stood, patted Darcy on the head with her gloved hand, and blew Logan a kiss as she bounced out of the kitchen, still giggling.

He stayed where he was and watched Darcy. She took a deep breath and finally turned to face him.

“So, soulmates.”

“You got a problem with that?”

She straightened abruptly and stared at him.

“What? No! Why would I?”

Logan straightened and came around the island to sit on a stool closer to her. He rested his fists on his thighs and paused.

“Well, there’s the mutant thing. Amnesia. One hell of an age difference. My personality. And these.” On the last, he slid his claws out slowly. He didn’t want so scare her. But he wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting into.

Darcy stood and moved towards him, eyes on his hands and lips compressed. She raised one hand slowly and trailed a finger along the back of one of his claws a pensive expression in place. He sat still waiting for her to reach some conclusion.

Then she tapped the claw and smiled at him; the tension in his chest released. He felt hopeful, but he wasn’t sure what exactly he hoped for.

“Yeah. I live with superheroes, a god, angry scientists, and nonagenarians with their own memory issues. Your problems are old hat. Plus, I’ve already heard all about your mushy emotional center and good-guy tendencies.”

Logan rolled his eyes and pulled his claws back in.

“Rogue and her damn heart eyes.”

“I don’t blame her,” Darcy murmured as she rested a hand on one of his fists.

He took a deep breath and turned his hand to entwine his fingers with hers.

“Sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He grinned. Suddenly he couldn't move fast enough and stood up, pulling her towards the door.

“Good, then let’s go get acquainted as the good woman suggested.”

“Just how acquainted were you planning on getting?” Darcy asked coyly.

He stopped and examined her thoroughly from head to toe and back up. When he got back to her face he smirked and pulled her closer to him.

“As much as you’ll let me, sweetheart.”


	2. A Stalk in the Park (Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is an Idiot. Natasha calls him on it. And Darcy? She's awesome, as per usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a little bit inspired by real events and part me being a dork. I hope you enjoy because I loved writing it!

Natasha took a sip of her Mai Tai and listened to Darcy’s retelling of an awkward encounter with William from Linguistics. The bar they were in was a bit too hipster and out-of-the-way for Natasha’s liking, but Darcy claimed their fried mozzarella sticks were better than any other place she’d found in New York. They also had ridiculous cocktails that helped Natasha blend in with the rest of the patrons ~~\--~~ and she found she liked the taste.

Their weekly girls’ night had begun a couple months earlier when Darcy declared she needed to find a new favorite other than jello shots and asked Natasha to enlighten her. Other residents of the tower (read: Tony) were uncomfortable with how the two women had bonded, but the former Russian found she highly enjoyed Darcy’s company. The younger woman wasn’t a civilian that needed to be shielded from the truth and wasn’t a teammate or colleague that required a strategy. Darcy also provided entertaining anecdotes about working as Pepper’s PA.

It reminded Natasha of one of her easier and more enjoyable ops. Any occasion she got to stab Stark was a fond memory.

Natasha felt the rum warming her blood, easing her smile as the current story reached fever pitch; complete with vigorous hand gestures. Darcy finished her tale and finished the last of her mojito before excusing herself for the bathroom. Natasha estimated that with only one drink and a substantial amount of cheese to absorb the alcohol, her friend should be safe enough without an escort.

Once Darcy was halfway across the bar Natasha pulled out her cell and called a number on speed dial.

“What?”

“You do know that you could actually join us and not lurk over in the corner. I’d even introduce you.”

“Damn it! How did you know I was here?”

“Clint. Really?”

“I was careful! Careful enough you shouldn’t have noticed me until after you left the bar, if at all.”

“Please. I can sense your angst a mile away.”

“I don’t have angst.”

“Says the man hiding from his crush.”

“I’m not… I don’t…I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“The right opportunity is not going to present itself when you follow her to bars or the bakery.”

There was a pause.

“How did you know about that?”

“You’ve put on weight. It’s affecting your sparring.”

“Bullshit.”

Natasha took another sip and shifted her gaze from the bathroom door to the table where Clint was definitely hiding.

“Things would be so much easier if you just moved into the tower. I wouldn’t even have to orchestrate anything.”

“As if that would stop you from trying. And you know how I feel about Stark being able to watch me sleep.”

Natasha sighed.

“I understand you not approaching her in New Mexico, but it’s pathetic now.”

She could hear Clint’s loud exhale and saw his shoulders droop across the room; it was only a matter of time now. She turned to watch the bathroom door again.

“Maybe. I just don’t want to screw it up.”

Darcy came out of the bathroom and gestured that she was going to get more drinks at the bar. Natasha nodded in acknowledgement.

“Clint, of course you are going to screw it up. It’s you. But if you get your head out of your ass soon I’ll make sure to help dig you out when you do.”

“Pinky promise?”

“You’ve been hanging around Wilson too much.”

Clint snorted but then went silent.

“Tasha, you seeing you what I’m seeing?”

She was. She had noted when two large men enter the bar a couple minutes earlier. But the men had spotted Darcy and were moving towards the small woman with far more intent than Natasha liked. One was Polynesian, the other Caucasian. Neither moved like military or anyone with training, but they were still very big and very much headed for her friend.

“Give me five minutes. I’ll handle it.”

“Tasha—“

She hung up and slid off her stool—quickly, but unobtrusively making her way to Darcy. Natasha was fifteen feet away when the men reached the curvy brunette. The Polynesian one said something the spy couldn't hear and she stiffened when she Darcy squealed.

But the former intern turned and threw herself into the arms of the enormous man next to her. Natasha relaxed marginally as the large man pulled Darcy up into a bear hug.

“Oh my gosh! Sione! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I live here now.” He chuckled as he set Darcy back down. “I think there’s someone else you’ll be glad to see.”

“Paul!”

The second man and Darcy exchanged a remarkably similar greeting. When Darcy was back on her feet she spotted Natasha at her side.

“Tasha! These are my friends whose asses I used to kick in college.”

“Come on now, Chief,” the one Darcy greeted as Paul spoke up. “You might have had the edge, but we held up our end.”

Darcy laughed and punched him in the arm then turned back to Natasha.

“We used to be on the same Halo team when these meatheads weren’t too busy with football.”

“Did someone mention Halo?” Clint asked as he popped up next to Natasha.

Of course he hadn’t listened to her. He clearly wasn’t needed and was bound to make things awkward this way.

Darcy gasped and Natasha rolled her eyes.

“The stalker with the diplomat!” Darcy yelled.

Clint stilled and Natasha grinned. Coulson never trusted that smile; said it was feral. But Darcy only noticed the tension in her old friends.

“Should we be worried?” Paul murmured twisting to face Clint head on.

At the same time Sione straightened and asked, “Need us to take care of it, Darce?”

Darcy waved her hands and took a step forward.

“No, no, no. Chill! I just see him in the same bakery a lot. He always gets this one pastry called a diplomat.” When the men relaxed and glanced back at her, she fixed them with a glare. “Besides you both know I would have tazed him in the balls if I was really worried.”

Natasha snorted elegantly.

Both of the large men grinned and Darcy turned back to Natasha and Clint.

That was her cue.

“Gentleman, Darcy, might I introduce my often idiotic partner, Clint Barton.”

Darcy reached out to shake Clint’s hand. Clint didn't say anything.

Natasha was going to prompt him but was distracted when Paul hit Sione in the arm and the men exchanged a look.

“Wait. Barton, as in Hawkeye? The Avenger?” Sione asked.

Clint nodded still holding Darcy’s hand.

“You must be the Black Widow.” Paul added staring at Natasha, mouth slightly agape.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Chief?” Sione prodded, shoving an elbow into Darcy’s shoulder.

“Easy there, He-Man. Okay.” Darcy paused and looked at Clint. “Can I get my hand back?”

Clint dropped her hand and shoved both of his into his pockets. Natasha saw a pink glow along the tops of the archer’s ears.

“Right, Clint, Natasha, these are Sione Ika and Paul Mathers.”

Natasha and Clint took turns shaking each man’s hand when Clint tilted his head and looked closer at the two.

“Wait, Mathers and Ika? Lineman for the Giants, right?”

“Yeah, man! You a fan?” Paul grinned.

“Absolutely. You guys were great in college”

Sione slapped Clint on the back, moving the archer’s shoulder a few inches. No small feat.

“You’ll have to come to a game sometime.”

Natasha almost sighed. She needed to get Clint back on track. Again. Idiot.

“We’ll definitely come. But, Clint, don’t you have something to say to Darcy?”

Darcy had been about to say something to Paul, but focused back on Clint and pointed at him accusingly.

“Yeah! Like how you totally were following me. And don’t tell me you were stalking me because I’m a security concern.”

The archer coughed. His ears were red now. 

“No, uh, but do note that there is a difference between stalking and being dedicated to details.”

Darcy grabbed her hip and stared at Clint.

Paul and Sione looked between the two and then at Natasha.

“What just happened? The only other time I saw Darce speechless was when Firefly was cancelled and what came after was not pretty.”

Paul nodded in agreement with Sione’s statement.

Natasha smirked.

“Oh, just a soulmark exchange. How about we give these two some privacy and you two can tell me about how you plan on shutting down Dallas next week.”

 

* * *

 

Clint didn’t say what happened after Natasha had left. In fact, he wasn’t saying much of anything about Darcy. But Clint never talked about anything important until he was sure of it, so Natasha didn’t worry. It was inconvenient, however, that she was called out on a mission and unable to get anything from Darcy either.

Two weeks after the bar, however, Natasha noticed during training that Clint no longer wore the guard over the words on his wrist. And the next day Natasha found Darcy in the common room wearing one of Clint’s sweatshirts and attempting to finger spell from a book.

Natasha smiled and went to help Darcy with her hand placement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And no offense to anyone that cheers for Dallas or against the Giants. I just needed a local New York team and a well-known opponent. 
> 
> My loyalties all lie in college ball anyway.


	3. Rescuers Down Under (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky moves into the tower, Darcy gets kidnapped, again, and pancakes make everything better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt on tumblr. I tweaked Bucky's words a little to fit with the version of him floating in my head. 
> 
> I'm also apparently incapable of keeping these as short as I first expect them to be. Woops.

Bucky spent his first eight weeks at the tower living on a secured floor removed from the rest of the residents. Steve moved onto the same floor after he realized that the former assassin wouldn’t leave until he was ready. Bucky had thought the punk should've understood sooner: it had been Bucky’s idea to separate himself. By the time Steve had found him, he was in no way the Winter Soldier. But it was going to take a while to feel like Bucky, a soldier who happened to have a metal arm.

One by one each of the other Avengers came to meet him, train with him, and welcome him to their superhero club (Stark's words). Communication became easier, movement  more natural, and interactions smoother. By his fifth week, Bucky was able to handle groups of three or four at a time without the need to monitor each individual’s actions and mannerisms. He still identified them, but no longer felt compelled note them for strategy.

Bucky suspected something was wrong at the end of his seventh week. Thor had gone off-world with Dr. Jane Foster but that wasn’t enough to explain the irregularities. Stark had grease behind his ears. Wilson often texted the whole time he visited.  Banner’s hair was in a perpetual state of dishevelment. Steve kept mumbling about shitty coffee. Barton’s pranks shifted focus to other Avengers. Romanova’s behavior didn’t change, but she spent more time on his floor than before.

It was a temptation to use his training to discover the cause with subterfuge and reconnaissance. But he decided to take the easy route. Bucky asked Jarvis.

Dr. Foster’s assistant, Darcy Lewis, had decided to visit her family at the same time her boss was in Asgard. Bucky found it interesting that one person’s absence caused so much havoc and wanted to meet this woman. It was the first time  since the 40s that he'd wanted to meet anyone, so he interpreted it as a good sign.

 

Eventually Bucky moved into Steve’s suite on the residential floors. It felt odd; especially at night. Bucky found himself tracing the words along his left pectoral waiting for sleep. The words weren’t there when he fell from the train. But they were his now and he felt hope as his heartbeat underneath his fingers. He was once again James Buchanan Barnes. And now he had a soulmate. A soulmate who'd finish saving him.

 

The day before Darcy was supposed to return, Bucky sat on the couch with Steve and Sam watching some movie. Darcy demanded be viewed before she returned. Steve said she had threatened to quiz them. Bucky didn't understand her intensity over this singing Goblin King, but was willing to go along.

“I’m not sure I get this,” Steve mumbled.

“Darcy will be more than willing to explain it when she gets back,” Sam snickered.

“That’s tomorrow, right? What time?”

“Not sure. I texted her earlier today, but she never answered. Last she said she was in Pennsylvania.”

The three were silent for a couple of minutes until another song started.

“Are we still doing Diner Thorsday when she gets back?” Steve tilted his head as he watched actors dancing across the screen.

“Don’t know. Hang on, I’ll call her.”

Bucky had heard about the weekly outings and was intrigued. A group outing would be a good opportunity to meet this Darcy Lewis. Especially if pancakes were involved.

Sam pulled out his phone, dialed, ended the call, and then dialed again.

“Huh, that’s weird.”

“What?” Steve asked.

“Darce’s phone is off.”

Bucky found the other men's reactions peculiar for the situation.

“That unusual?"

“A bit, yeah.” Sam’s brow furrowed. “Hey, Jarvis. Any way you can unobtrusively check on Darce for me? I don’t want her to kill me if she’s just in a movie or something.”

All three waited for the AI to respond, the movie forgotten.

“There seems to be a problem, Mr. Wilson.”

Steve straightened.

“Explain.”

“I am unable to locate Ms. Lewis through GPS—“

“Doesn’t she have a chip in her phone?” Bucky interrupted. 

Sam sighed.

“Darcy refused to upgrade in order to piss off Stark. She said Jarvis could just hack her phone anyway.”

“Do it,” Steve ordered. 

“I am sorry, Captain. I am unable to turn on Ms. Lewis’s phone. The battery is either dead or has been removed.”

“Shit,” the other two men uttered.

Bucky's heart rate increased. 

“Could be a coincidence.” 

Steve shook his head.

“You don’t know Darce. Jarvis, alert the team.”

 

* * *

 

It was mid morning when Darcy pulled off the highway. As she filled up her gas tank she spotted a dark SUV pull into a parking space at the side of the store and no one get out. Like that didn’t scream suspicious. But it was the middle of Pennsylvania, so she hoped she was just overreacting. She preferred to play it safe, though. It wasn't like she'd never been kidnapped before.

When she went into the bathroom she sent Sam a text checking in and hid her new mini-taser courtesy of Stark in the bottom of her left bra cup. Not the most comfortable, but she’d pull it out later if she was overreacting.

The fact that she woke up that afternoon in a small cell proved she wasn't. At least she’d been able to use her regular taser on the first goon that stormed her in the bathroom. The other three had followed soon after, and no matter how much training she’d done with Natasha, she was not going to try and take those three on.  Therefore, them drugging her was totally unnecessary.

Overkill drugging and bathroom ambushes aside, these guys were total amateurs. Darcy found she still totally had her mini taser, watch, and a ton of bobby pins in her hair. 

Amateur hour aside, this time her cell had an actual toilet so it already was better than the last time. She assumed there were more cells on either side but she couldn’t see much through the bars and only heard two guards down the hall.

Correction: two wannabe guards. The two hadn’t even tried to keep their voices down as they discussed who all would be on duty and when; the route to sneak a smoke break outside; and their crappy organization’s entire game plan to use her as bait to draw out the Avenger’s and their new addition, the Winter Soldier. Natasha alone would slaughter them.

Darcy sighed and rubbed the soulmark on the back of her right thumb. Her words made it seem like she'd meet her soulmate in some dramatic situation. She'd been training with different Avengers trying to be totally badass for when that situation came up. Fat lot of good that all did when the dramatic situation was getting kidnapped. Again. A damsel in distress did not a good rescuer make. And she was supposed to be a rescuer, dammit. 

At least it was only a matter of time until someone got there. Stark would have put a tracking device in the new taser and Darcy had been grabbed twelve hours earlier.

Her big problem was that she’d been bored for the last six. She’d listened to three rehashings of the evil plan, two boring-as-all-get-out poker games, and an asinine betting session on when the Avengers would get there and how many each guard would take out. Idiots.

Dimwit #1 loudly declared he was going for dinner and Darcy decided to take her chance. She double-checked that her prepared bobby pins were in her back pocket, taser in the front; took off one sock, and put her shoe back on.

Antagonizing was her best option, so she warmed up her muscles, channeled Clint, and went to the front of her cell.

“Hey douchebag!”

Darcy dropped her sock on the floor and stepped on it.

When she didn’t hear a response she wrapped her hands around the bars and tried to peer down the hall.

“Oh, douchebag!”

“Shut up!”

“What? Isn’t that your name?”

“I said shut up!”

“Okay, fine then. Hey, Dipshit!”

There wasn’t a response.

“How about dickface?”

“Okay, no more alliteration. Asshat!”

Darcy heard the scrape of a metal chair and Dimwit #2 clomped his way over to her cell and stopped a couple of feet away.

“I told you to shut up!”

Darcy smiled.

“Make me.”

He lunged towards the bars.

She was ready and grabbed his collar with both hands and yanked him towards her, ramming his face into the bars.

Repeatedly.

Natasha’s deathly workouts had absolutely been worth it. The guard dropped to the ground, unconscious. Darcy figured she had a minute, maybe two, to get the door unlocked. She pulled out her bobby pins and got to work.

It only took forty-five seconds. Clint had taught her well.

Darcy grabbed the thug by the armpits and dragged him into her cell. She smothered a laugh when a pair of handcuffs fell out of his pocket. Utter idiots.

She pulled his hands above his head and cuffed both wrists around one of the bars. He was starting to come around, so she hurriedly grabbed her sock off the floor and shoved it in his mouth as a gag before closing the cell door behind her and making her way down the hall.

From what the guards had said, the command center was down the hall to the right, so the path out to the dimwits’ smoking area was to the left.

Darcy pulled her taser out, channeled the Black Widow, and began to slink her way to freedom.

She followed the corridor down, took two rights, then a left, and saw a set of stairs leading up to the exit. But at the bottom lurked one scary-looking dude. He had a serious gun and Darcy could tell there was nothing amateur about him. He started moving forward and she caught a glimpse of metal. The Winter Soldier.

No, it was James Buchanan Barnes now.

Finally!

Not only was her ride here, but she’d get to escape with the man she’d totally had a crush on in history class. None of the Avengers had let her join in on their visits before she left for vacation, so this encounter would totally make up for the suckiness of being kidnapped. Again.

Darcy was about to come out from behind the corner when one of the doors along the hallway opened. Six men spilled out and went straight for her rescuer. He took out dimwits #3 and #4 easily. Dimwits #5-7 figured out that attacking him one at a time wasn’t working and rushed him all at once. Darcy saw the scary gun land on the floor in the scuffle. Dimwit #6 got a lucky swing and jammed a syringe into Barnes’ neck. He kept right on fighting but his movements slowed and became less precise.

Dimwit #8 had hovered to the side and as soon as the last of the earlier three amateurs collapsed to the floor he threw a device that attached to the metal arm and sparked. The arm went lax and Barnes caught himself on the wall with his flesh arm.

“Looks like my lucky night,” the wannabe villain chuckled as he started sauntering closer to where the other man swayed. “I’m definitely getting a promotion over this.”

Darcy moved from her hiding spot and crept forward.

“The famous Winter Soldier. And here I thought you’d be harder to catch.”

The goon kept chuckling and Darcy sneaked closer until she was less than ten feet away.

“Man, you villains and your monologuing. Don’t you know the element of surprise is everything?”

Dimwit #8 whirled around and Darcy fired while posing.

“LIPSTICK TASER!”

The thug dropped and twitched violently. She’d definitely have to thank stark.

Barnes sagged to his knees and Darcy dropped dropped the taser to rush forward. He nearly faceplanted, but she caught his shoulders and slowly lowered him to the ground.

His brows furrowed for a moment and his eyes glazed. Definitely not how Darcy wanted their first meeting to go. But then he focused on her face and his expression softened.

“You saved me.”

Well shit. She hadn’t anticipated that.

“I mean, the taser did most of the saving, but you’re welcome anyway?”

He gave her a delirious smile and closed his eyes.

“Ma always said there were angels on earth. She was right. An angel is my soulmate.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky woke up disoriented. After a couple seconds he realized he was in his room in Steve’s suite. He tried to calm his pounding heart and traced his soulmark. His fingers stilled. He'd gone to save Darcy. He'd found his soulmate. 

“STEVE!”

Bucky threw himself out of his bed and crashed his way into the hallway.

“Steve! Where is she? I gotta find her!”

He made it to the living room and spun around helplessly until he noticed a face peering at him over the back of the couch.

It was her. It was Darcy. 

“You better be talking about me since you’re dressed like that.”

He followed her eyes and saw that he stood there in only his underwear. His heart still hammered, but she was there. Darcy Lewis was there. Darcy was his soulmate.

His laugh came out rough and he licked his lips.

“And what if I was talking about you?”

She stood and walked around the couch, coming to stand in front of him. So close he only had to reach out to touch her. He lifted his left hand but stopped. Darcy noticed the movement and caught the metal hand. He held his breath as she wrapped his hand in both of hers and rested all three under her chin, pulling him closer and hugging his forearm. 

He let out his breath when he saw her right hand. There were his words. His writing on the hand wrapped around his.

His heart raced again; fueled by a different emotion.

She smiled up at him.

“Well, if it was me you were talking about, then I say it’s time I treat my soulmate for coming to my rescue. How do pancakes sound?”

He couldn’t have stopped his grin if he wanted to.

“Like heaven, doll.”


	4. The Ultimate Con (Darcy/Eliot Spencer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot Spencer has been in a lot of crazy situations; but he never expected to find his soulmate like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been marathoning Leverage and have become mildly obsessed with Eliot Spencer. This is the result.

“No, man. I’m telling you. None of you fully appreciate Lucille 2.0 and what she does for you.”

Eliot snorted and kept walking.

“Hardison, shut up.

“No, really, I just think that—“

Out of the corner of his eye, Eliot saw a shadow pass by them on the rooftop. He walked faster to the corner to try and catch a glimpse of whoever it could be up there.

Hardison was still talking.

“Seriously. Can it. I saw something.”

By this point the two men reached the corner and Eliot peered around the bricked wall; just in time to see six trained operatives repelling down the side, straight towards a woman on the sidewalk. She was clearly a civilian, distracted on her cell phone, and about to be in some serious trouble.

“All right, Hardison. I’m going in.”

“Man, you sure? There’s like six of them and they’re some mean-looking dudes.”

“Your faith in my skills always astounds me.  You just grab her and take her back to McRory’s. These guys are ex-military and mean business.”

“How can you tell?”

“Their climbing form.”

“Their form?”

“It’s distinctive, okay. You just get her and run.”

“Fine. Let’s do this thang!”

Eliot shot Hardison a glare over his shoulder and moved in.

The woman definitely was more than what met the eye. He could have sworn she yelled “not again” when she noticed the bad guys and then took a stance no civilian that he’d ever met had known. By the time he made it to the ambush site she’d taken down three of the goons: two with a taser and the third with a flip followed by a serious kick to the groin when he tried to grab her from behind.

Eliot went in swinging. He’d taken down the fourth thug and moved onto the fifth when he saw Hardison pulling the woman away while she continued to try and fight.

“I’m telling you I got this.”

Eliot paused at her disgruntled tone; just long enough to get sucker-punched in the ribs with brass knuckles by goon six.

He didn’t notice much else until he was breathing hard and all six men were unconscious around him.

He searched them quickly. No IDs. No cell phones. Nothing but the small comms in their ears that were on a secured frequency. These were some serious professionals.

What kind of civilian knew how to fight like that and had pissed off these guys?

Eliot made his way back to the bar. Hardison should have figured something out by now and he could really use a drink and an ice-pack.

Figured the guy had got him right on his soulmark. That’s all soulmarks seemed to be good for. Coming out of nowhere and causing a world of pain.

Just look at Nate and Sophie. Nate learned the hard way how much it sucked when you married your platonic soulmate and had a romantic one out there still. One strained and failed relationship and the rocky on-again-off-again thing he and Sophie had had going for the last couple of years didn’t make Eliot envious. Then there was Parker. She was a blank, and that definitely didn’t do much good for her when she was feeling alone and lost in the foster system. Eliot had no idea about Hardison. And frankly, he didn’t really care. His own soulmark wasn’t very promising, so he had enough issues on his own to start worrying about Hardison’s.

 

By the time Eliot made it back to McRory’s, the adrenaline had worn off and his ribs hurt like a bitch. It didn’t help that Hardison and the mystery woman were nowhere in sight.

He hustled upstairs still holding his ribs and froze when he walked into the condo.

Sophie, Nate, and the mystery woman  were laughing together at the table.

“Oh, man. Do you know many times I had to prove that damage wasn’t intentional just a direct result of drunken stupidity because of that man?” Nate chuckled as he took a sip of his drink.

Sophie leaned forward and rested her chin in her hands while sighing.

“Tony Stark. Now that was a fabulous con. That man could—“

“Let me stop you there. There are certain things I never need to know about my boss’s boss.” The mystery woman interrupted.

Hardison entered the room from the kitchen and Eliot flagged him over to the couch.

“Dude, what’s going on? I couldn’t find anything on those guys but they were seriously trained and very interested in her. Who is she and why the hell did you bring her into the base?”

Eliot sat, turning so he could see the group at the table and watch all exits.

“Chill, man. We got it all figured out. She’s Darcy Lewis and the thugs were from AIM.”

“That’s supposed to mean something?”

“Advanced Idea Mechanics? Don’t you follow the news at all?”

“Cut the crap and just explain.”

Hardison shook his head and smirked condescendingly.

“Darcy Lewis is the assistant for Jane Foster and is here for some conference for her boss. AIM is interested in forcibly recruiting Dr. Foster and wanted to use Darcy as bait.”

“Okay. That makes more sense now.”

“You still don’t get it do you?”

Hardison sounded way too worked up about this and Eliot focused on him.

“What are you talking about?”

“She works for Jane Foster. She is friends with the Avengers. She lives in freaking Avengers tower!”

Eliot hummed and smirked: he could use that to his advantage. But he then noticed the excited look on Hardison’s face and felt the paranoia kick in.

“Why does this matter to you?”

Hardison stared at the new woman longingly.

“Man. She lives with and works with the most advanced and fully functioning AI system ever created. Jarvis puts all the operating, security, and technology systems I’ve ever hacked to shame. And she has him on her phone!”

“Dude. You’re getting a hard on for a computer.”

“Jarvis isn’t just a computer! I’ve tried to hack him so many times and I’ve never even gotten as far as the first firewall. Thing is a hacker’s wet dream.”

Eliot chuckled and Hardison shifted back to him.

“Besides. I saw your face earlier. Why does anything about her matter to _you_?”

Eliot shrugged and tried not to wheeze when his ribs reminded him that that was a bad move.

“She lives with the Black Widow. The assassin is a master at every martial art I’ve ever practiced as well as a few others. She’d be a hell of a sparring partner.”

“You’re getting excited at the prospect of getting your ass handed to you? And you think I’m weird?”

“Shut up man. You’ll never even get to look at her phone and check out this Jeeves or whatever.”

“Jarvis, JARVIS! Ugh.”

Hardison sighed and then stilled.

“You know what? I bet I can.”

“What?”

“I bet you next op’s reconnaissance duties I’ll be able to check out Jarvis before you can convince her to introduce you to the Black Widow.”

There wasn’t any hesitation.

“You’re on!”

Hardison rubbed his hands together and walked over to the table. Eliot stayed on the couch and tried to plan while ignoring his aching ribs.

The front door opened and Parker came in. She made her way to the table with her usual impatient gait and dropped a bunch of climbing rope on the table.

“Sophie, we need to practice your exit for next week’s—“ she cut off when she noticed the stranger sitting at the table.

“Darcy?”

“PARKER?”

Suddenly the two women were hugging each other and Parker was acting like nothing Eliot had ever seen. But she wasn’t acting. It was genuine. That was confusing as hell.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Nate asked.

“Yeah!” Parker said still grinning. “Darcy used to let me practice cracking her dad’s old Glenn-Reeder Prestige.”

“You let her break into your father’s safe?” Sophie cut in.

“Eh, it wasn’t like he had anything in there anyway. He’d inherited it from my grandfather and it made Parker happy. Besides, who do you think got me my first taser?”

The group continued to chat excitedly and laugh, so Eliot went to the kitchen, grabbed an ice-pack, and began to size-up the mark.

Darcy Lewis was fairly young, 26 maybe 27. Long, medium-brown hair, blue eyes, full lips, and a gorgeous body underneath the coat she'd taken off sometime between the ambush and now. Maybe Eliot could have a little fun with this. Besides he’d taken a couple of guys out for her and felt like he had home court advantage.

Hardison was going down.

Nate and Sophie had wandered off, while Darcy, Parker, and Hardison now sat at the table.

“So, is Mr. White Knight over there going to continue lurking or actually come talk?” Darcy asked Parker in a voice loud enough for him to hear.

That was his cue.

Eliot set down the ice pack and moved to where she sat. He put one hand on the back of her chair and another on the table next to her hand. He smiled and broke out the tried and true charm.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Name’s Eliot. How you doing?”

Darcy stilled and narrowed her eyes at him.

He began to wonder if he’d miscalculated.

“Important question: just how attached to that douchey facial hair are you?”

Eliot straightened and quickly brought a hand to his ribs; he grunted when he hit the bruised flesh harder than he meant to.

Parker’s eyes were maniacal and she grinned.

“Wait. Darcy! Does that mean?”

“Soulmates? Yep. Seems like it.” The other woman said, still looking at Eliot.

Hardison hit the table lightly with one hand and cackled.

“So wait, is this a chicken or egg type thing? Like do you have the facial fair because of the soulmark or is it your soulmark because of your affinity for soul patches and chin straps?”

Eliot ignored him and kept his focus on Darcy.

“Damn it woman. I’ve had this thing for almost ten years!”

She snorted.

“Consider it payback for having a cheesey come-on stamped on my ass.”

Eliot replaced his hands on her chair and the table and leaned in, hair drifting forward to frame both of their faces. Her eyes dilated and he smiled and cocked a brow.

“Your ass, huh?”

Her lips parted and he heard her small gasp.

But then she shook her head and smirked.

“You are ridiculous. Seriously, how long do you spend straightening your hair every day? Doesn’t it get in the way when you’re fighting? Not to mention making you more memorable? You already have enough issues with that for your line of work.”

Eliot stood straight once again and tried to think of a defense. Darcy’s eyes followed his movements.

“It usually takes him about 45 minutes to do his hair.” Parker cut in. “And I estimate in the last three years that we’ve worked together that he’s taken an extra 540 hits because it has impeded his visuals.”

“540?” Hardison crowed.

Darcy glanced at the other man when he laughed and Eliot shot him a glare.

“Give or take.”

“Okay, shut up. And Parker’s creepy stalker habits aside, what the hell are you talking about my issues with being memorable?”

Darcy turned and gazed up at him. He’d say her facial expression was smug. She couldn't know anything, could she?

“Kid Jones. Roy Chappell. Kenneth Crane. Any of those sound familiar?”

“How the hell do you know about all of those?” Eliot growled.

“Easy there Growly O’Grumperson. I spend a lot of time on the internet. Plus, I live with highly trained fighters, an archer with an affinity for country music, and a patriotic nonagenarian that is really, really into America’s favorite pastime and viral videos.”

“And you didn’t do anything when you realized they were all the same guy,” Hardison asked.

Darcy shifted in her chair to shrug at the other man.

“Eh. I see a bunch of crazy shit on a daily basis. I figured it was either fake or something hinky. The first is boring, the second I deal with enough already; I don’t need to go looking for more.

Darcy paused and then turned back to Parker.

"I’m starving. Adrenaline rushes always make me hungry. You got any cold cereal?”

“Do I have any cereal?” Parker repeated with a smirk.

The two women stood and went into the kitchen murmuring between themselves.

“So, soulmates, huh?”

Eliot didn’t bother looking. He might smack Hardison if he saw the stupid grin he knew was there.

“Shut up. I’m not talking about it. And the bet is off.”

“You sure man? I mean, I thought you’d want to take advantage of the whole soulmate—“

“Hardison!”

“Okay. Okay.” The other man chuckled as he followed the women into the kitchen and grabbed some orange soda from the fridge.

Eliot stood at the table facing the kitchen, but he only watched Darcy.

Darcy Lewis was something else. His team were all half in love with her already. Or old cohorts if Parker was telling the truth. She was smart, gorgeous, and could kick some serious ass in a fight. And her life was just about as crazy as his.

Maybe this soulmate thing wouldn’t be so bad. He wouldn’t have to lie to her. She didn’t seem to want anything from him. And judging by his current feelings and her earlier reaction, it definitely wasn’t a platonic bond. That should prove interesting.

As Eliot stood there, hand once again holding his ribs, Darcy looked back at him with her bowl of cereal in her hands. She gave him a thorough evaluation from head to toe and back and shot him a wink.

Definitely should prove interesting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as how I didn't start writing this until after midnight, there's probably some mistakes. I'll most likely come through again later and fix them.


	5. A Little Less Talk, A Little More Sasssin' (Darcy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy would like to think she saved the day very well, thank you very much. So, she's definitely not ready for Cap to read her the riot act. Fate saves her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This comes from a prompt on tumblr.
> 
> I'm not gonna lie. This was a bit tricky for me. I don't usually ship Shieldshock and I kept trying to figure out how Steve would act. If you want spoilers before you read, I discussed more of my philosophy for Stevie boy in the notes at the end.
> 
> Either way, hope this was what you wanted nonny!

This was the last time that Darcy let Tony suggest the restaurant for the weekly Science! escape into the world. Her choices might seem somewhat questionable but they were always tasty and she sure as hell was never threatened at gunpoint.

Well there was that one time when she had gone to pick up lunch for the team and got mugged, but she totally blamed that on doing something nice for Tony.

This time Darcy was halfway into her appetizer when the place was swarmed with soldiers and she could hear General Thaddeus E. 'Thunderdouche' Ross, on a bullhorn telling Bruce to come out. Jane hit her Avengers alarm for backup and Tony called the suit; however, before either could get there some goon shoved a needle in Bruce’s neck and Hulk decided it was time to join the party.

Darcy grabbed Jane and hustled toward the back exit. She was able to take out two guys with her Stark-enhanced taser before a third nailed her right in solar plexus before pile driving her into the ground. If the wind hadn’t been knocked out of her, she would have smiled when the thug had a brief, yet thorough, lesson in Newton's laws of motion as he quickly met the opposite wall courtesy of one very angry Hulk.

Darcy assumed that most of the soldiers were US military and not officially villainous, just following a tool of a General’s orders. Therefore, it was probably best to get the Hulk out of this conflict. He’d go all smashy and the other guys would be all smushy. Especially since Jane could only throw so many right hooks and her taser was nowhere to be found.

By this time the Avengers had shown up and Tony was being the distraction he was born to be. It took a couple of minutes, but Darcy calmed the Hulk enough to convince him to get her and Jane somewhere else and leave the rest of the Avengers to take care of the mess.

 

Two hours later, Darcy and Jane sat next to the Hulk in Central Park as he soaked his feet in the pond. Cap and Iron Man showed up with some SI suits and good-guy jack-booted thugs. Darcy did not like the look on the spangled man's face. She’d never even met the guy but she’d heard through Tony, Thor, and Clint about what it’s like to be on the other end of that. There’s definitely a righteous lecture in her future.

Luckily or unluckily enough, the adrenaline had worn off making standing up difficult as the pain set in. Tony noticed her discomfort and flew off with her to medical before she had to deal with Mr. Make You Doubt Your Every Life Choice. Darcy swore to never again mock Hill’s efficiency since it meant she was debriefed while treated, given some drugs, and sent off to Jane’s so she’d have supervision as she slept it off all within an hour.

 

* * *

  

The next morning Darcy woke up in a world of hurt and definitely doubted the life choices that led her there. That is, until she noticed the pain killers and a glass of water on the table next to the bed. There was also a sticky note telling her to take two pills, take a hot shower, and go to the common kitchen for coffee. She followed the first two orders and by then the pills had kicked in enough she braved putting on a loose sports bra and lounge wear that Jane must have picked up for her.

Darcy shuffled into the kitchen and almost turned back around when she found Captain Freaking America already there. He spotted her, though, and she saw his body shift: his shoulders pulled back and head lifted to deliver a rousing speech on recklessness and responsibility or some shit.

She didn’t want to hear it from anyone but especially when she knew it was a huge crock coming from that man. Dude does what he wants. She totally saw pictures of him riding around DC without a helmet in blatant disregard for helmet laws. Darcy didn't care if you were born before helmet laws were created or if you had a super serum induced healing complex; that was just stupid. Clint told her what a little ass the man with a plan could be and she bet that anytime he got pulled over he’d flash his ID and say some snarky comment like “do you really want to ticket freedom, son?”.

And here he was about to tell her she was wrong for what she did yesterday. Freaking huge pot, meet kettle.

“Listen, I can see you want to lecture me about something. But I haven’t had coffee yet, so you’re going to have to stand about ten feet back and patiently wait for me to give you the signal that I am ready for human interaction.”

She didn’t check to see his reaction. Instead she made her way straight to the coffee. Sweet, sweet nectar of the gods. She was tempted to drink straight from the pot like Barton, but that was just begging for communicable diseases.

Darcy paid no attention to the upcoming confrontation and leisurely poured herself an enormous cup. She leaned against the counter, closed her eyes, and held the cup within six inches of her mouth the whole time she drank it.

It was a full ten minutes before she finished.

When she opened her eyes she noticed that the Captain had moved from the table to the middle of the kitchen to watch her, just barely meeting her suggestion of a ten-foot distance.

Ass.

Darcy continued to ignore him and turned to go about doctoring her second cup.

“Okay, you may proceed.”

He didn’t answer and she looked up from the sugar she had been pouring. It wasn’t the disappointed Captain she saw now. Steve Rogers lounged against the opposite side of the island, shit-eating grin in place. That was a surprise.

“While I did have a specific lecture in mind, I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate now.”

Darcy would later blame her response on the coffee not having fully hit her bloodstream.

“Appropriate?”

He chuckled and straightened to pull his already tight sleeve up to his shoulder. He stared at her as he held his arm out so she could see the inside.

Darcy’s previous predictions proved correct. The man’s arms were just as lickable as she thought.

She wanted to trail her thumb along the indentation along the middle of his arm between his muscles, but limited herself to following it with her eyes. But there at the top of his arm was a soulmark. A soulmark in her handwriting. A soulmark of what she had said to him.

Without a thought, she yanked down the neck of her shirt and shoved aside the sports bra to see the soulmark along the top of her right breast. It wasn’t like she hadn’t stared at it thousands of times before. But it didn’t make any more sense to her at that moment.

Darcy looked up and noticed that Steve’s eyes were still focused on where her hand held the fabric of her clothes aside. Flustered, she hastily covered up.

“This isn’t possible! You don’t have a soulmark!”

He grinned as he lowered his arm to pull his sleeve back down.

“Been studying up on me?”

Her composure was so ruffled she didn't notice his teasing and started flailing her arms.

“All the history books talked about you being a blank. There are whole theses written about your personality and choices being affected by being a blank.”

“I didn’t have one when I went into the ice but I did when I came out.  It’s as simple as that.”

Darcy clapped her hands down on the expanse of marble between them.

“It’s not simple as that!”

Steve frowned came around the island to stand next to her. She stilled and shifted her eyes to the counter top in front of her.

“I’m not sure what’s worrying you about this.”

“It just doesn’t make sense.”

He chuckled.

“Well, having heard stories from Clint and Natasha about the crap you pull it does actually make sense to me," he murmured.

She smiled wanly.

“Look. What you did yesterday was something I would have done, even before the serum. Actually, what you did was smarter. I probably would have told the Hulk to take Jane and stayed behind to fight all of them myself.”

Darcy snorted glanced at him quickly.

“Yeah, I might have a better sense of self-preservation. Which is probably why this freaks me out.”

He rested one of his large hands on top of hers.

“Care to explain?” He asked quietly.

Darcy stared at his hand on top of hers and tried to pin her spastic thoughts into words.

“I’ve been around academics most of my adult life. Yes, lately there are some heroes and gods thrown into the mix, but overall, it’s still scientists and awkward geniuses who I interact with. I always figured it’d be some nerdy engineer type or wilting professor who was my soulmate. And you. You are definitely not that.”

“Is that so bad?”

She looked up and noticed his schooled non-expression.

Darcy took a deep breath and turned her hand over to squeeze his.

“Not bad. Just a change."

She paused.

"A _big_ change.”

He smirked and she pivoted so she could use her free hand to smack him on the arm. The very muscular arm. The very muscular arm of her soulmate.

That would take some getting used to.

“That's not what I was implying.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

“Jerk.”

“Your jerk.”

He shifted their hands so he could entwine their fingers. She’d never been into mushy interactions before but that gesture did more to calm her than she wanted to admit.

“I think I get what you’re saying. Let’s take it slow. You finish that ridiculously sugary coffee and then we’ll go get breakfast. Get to know each other and not what we might have thought or heard.”

She nodded.

“Breakfast. I could do breakfast.” Darcy said and then looked down at herself. “I don’t think I’ll be able to wear much more than this though.”

He leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead. Damn man was going to give her cavity.

And she liked it.

“Wear whatever you want. I’ll swing by your room and pick you up in an hour?”

She nodded again. Steve gave her hand one last squeeze and turned to leave the kitchen. He paused in the doorway then leaned back in, shit-eating grin back.

“Maybe later we can talk about me seeing your soulmark again.”

He winked and was out the door.

And she liked that too.

Ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that Steve would have found a soulmark as a major comfort when he woke up and everything he knew was gone. So, once he found his soulmate he was going to do everything in his power to make sure they didn't get away. I mean, remember how he was for Bucky, now take that and apply it to a romantic soulmate. 
> 
> Also, Steve totally had easy flirting down with Sharon Carter in TWS, so he is of course going to amp it up when it's his soulmate on the line. Plus we all know he's a snarky little bugger. And that is how my brain saw one Steve Rogers for this.


	6. And If I Know You (Darcy/Sam Wilson)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy thought she'd do something nice to welcome Cap and his entourage back to the tower. A little Disney and a little baking later, she found herself with a fresh new soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I needed more flirty banter after the last segment. And who better to give it than Sam Wilson?

When Steve, the destroyer of helicarriers, sent word that he was coming back to the tower with a superhero and a former brainwashed assassin in tow, Darcy volunteered herself as the welcoming committee and got to baking.

First step was choosing the correct playlist. Things were undoubtedly going to be tense, so she figured she’d get things off to a lighter start: Disney.  She had two batches of cookies done and was moving onto the cake when she heard someone snicker from the doorway. Darcy paused in pouring the cake flour to see who had interrupted her fabulous rendition of the Skumps Song. There stood a smiling man who was tall, dark, and all ‘DAMN, break me off a piece of that’. Since he definitely didn’t fit the bill for Cap or Bucky, he was Sam Wilson.

But that wasn’t quite how she thought of him.

“I know you!”

He looked at her skeptically.

“You danced with me once upon a dream?”

Darcy dropped the flour. Not the best of reactions since the flour rose up in a cloud of epic proportions. By the time she’d cleared the flour out of her eyes and lungs there were tear tracks down her face and a concerned and gorgeous man standing right next to her.

Darcy swatted at his shoulder.

“Damn you!”

He held his hands up in apologetic surrender.

“What did I do?”

She made him wait until she was done violently brushing off as much of the flour she should reach on her clothes and hair before answering him.

“You are the reason my parents decided make my middle name Aurora!”

It took a moment, but the information clicked and she was encouraged by the delight she saw on his face.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Classic!”

She pointed a finger at him and he took a small step back.

“No, no it’s not. Ever since Stark found that out he’s refused to call me anything other than princess names!”

He laughed and she begrudgingly acknowledged to herself that liked the sound of it. Damn beautiful man. Damn sinful laugh. She grabbed a dish towel and scrubbed her face.

“Whatever, you’re helping me clean up this mess. Go get the broom out of that closet over there.”

Sam went to the designated closet without a word and fetched the broom to start sweeping in from the outskirts of ground zero. Smart man. 

Darcy wiped down the counters, pushing all the flour into the sink or onto the floor. He was going to sweep there anyway. And he totally deserved the extra work for making her playground days just a little bit tougher. 

“Okay, so, being my soulmate and all, what should I call you?” Sam asked once he had contained the flour spill to a five-foot circle.

“Darcy; Ms. Lewis if ya nasty.”

“Oh, really?”

Darcy spotted his smug expression and momentarily cursed her lack of filter.

“Ahem. I mean…You know what, no." She cocked one hip and rested one still floury hand on it to stare him down. "If you’re my soulmate I’m totally gonna own that. You dig?”

He looked her up and down and grinned.

“Oh, I dig.”

“Okay, then.”

She coughed. It was because of the flour. Totally the flour.

“I’ll guess I’ll try to find some way in my heart to forgive you.”

Darcy finished cleaning up the rest of the counter and turned to watch Sam finish his task.

“Besides it was amusing to find out just how many princesses Stark knew off the top of his head.”

“I bet.”

He chuckled and reached for the dustpan he'd brought out with broom but paused over the not-so-small heap of flour and glanced back to Darcy.

“Did I miss something earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he tilted his head to the side and totally scoped her out again.  “It'd definitely be appropriate to say you're the type of woman I’d remember meeting…but I genuinely don’t remember you.”

“Ah. That.”

“Yeah. That.”

Darcy hesitated again but then thought _screw that_. He was her soulmate after all.

“Remember your old running route in DC last spring?”

“Yeah…”

“I used to sit on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and watch you.”

“Seriously?”

“Mmhmm. It was my morning highlight for a couple of weeks.”

“I’m not gonna argue that. But damn; if I’d known I would have put on more of a show.”

He bent to sweep the last of the flour into the dustpan and Darcy took a moment to enjoy the view.

“I’m sure we can arrange something.”

Sam caught her looking and gave her another smug smile as he walked past her to put the flour remnants in the trash. He put the dustpan and broom away and came back to stand next to her at the counter.

“Did you see Steve trolling me that one morning?”

Darcy gave up any pretense of even trying to finish baking and copied his posture: leaning on one hip against the counter.

“Nah, I’d already finished my research and cleared out by then.”

He leaned forward and gave her an exaggerated brow waggle.

“Research? On me?”

“Research for my thesis. I figured I should finish my degree if I was going to keep throwing myself into life-and-death situations. Go out in a blaze of academic glory and all that.”

He scoffed.

“Thesis, sure. At least you got to see my good side. Way better than Steve’s.”

“Indeed,” she murmured and snorted when he preened.

She absolutely loved his cocky humor, but couldn’t resist seeing how far it lasted.

“Besides, while Steve’s bouncing pecs are a sight to behold, he’s not really my type.”

His traumatized facial expression almost made her cackle.

“Bouncing pecs?”

Darcy put on her best innocent expression, glad that none of the other residents were there to call her on it.

“Haven’t you seen the jiggle?”

Sam dramatically slumped and clutched his heart.

“You trying to give me a complex, woman?”

“Aw, poor baby.”

Darcy smiled and leaned in; in for a penny, in for a pound after all.

“Did you need me to kiss it and make it better.”

He straightened and focused on her mouth, leaving no questions about what he had planned.

“Oh, I’ll show you making it better.”

With that Sam grabbed her chin and laid one on her.

It definitely made things better.

Boy knew how to kiss. Hooey.

A slow clap from the doorway made Sam and Darcy break apart; but neither moved farther than necessary to see who had barged in.

Tony stood there, hands clasped in front of his chest and a wicked grin in place.

“Peach, you devil you. Already moving in on the new additions? I’m so proud.” He wiped away a fake tear.

“Whatever, Tony.”

Darcy grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him out of the kitchen while calling over her shoulder.

“Get Jarvis to order a cake from that awesome Polish bakery. I’m gonna go make sure my soulmate knows I fully appreciate his pecs.”

Sam chuckled beside her as they continued down the hall.

“You got a problem with that, fly boy?”

“No, ma’am.”

Darcy stopped and raised a brow at him.

“Ma’am?”

“Excuse, me.” He smirked. “No problem at all, Ms. Lewis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like most people, I definitely don't see Darcy as a morning person. But one night after having issues sleeping I could see her wandering around the deserted memorials. Once she'd spotted Sam going by, you can be sure she kept going back for a repeat performance!


	7. An Officer and an Intern (Darcy/Rhodey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another late night, another failed villainous attempt to end life as we know it. But this time Darcy gets the bonus of soulmate. She always was cliche enough to love a man in uniform.

The third would-be super villain of the month decided to strike New York City at two in the morning of what was by that time technically Friday.  The self-proclaimed Dr. Nebula was a joke who Darcy forever afterwards dubbed Mr. Spaceballs. First, because she refused to acknowledge any bad guy’s claim to the title of doctor unless she had absolute proof he’d earned it from a credentialed and certified educational board (for example, Dr. Doom, totally legitimate). And second, the tool had a voice like Rick Moranis and chose to wear a freaking huge helmet.

Mr. Spaceballs showed up attempting to open a portal into another realm to destroy Earth, blah blah blah, but only succeeded in raining down fur and fluffy as some sort of tribbles popped up around the city. The whole fiasco was more of a training exercise as the team closed the portal without any problem, took out the supposed mastermind, and all furry space creatures were quickly rounded up.

Something like that normally wouldn’t have even involved Darcy, but Erik and Bruce were out of country, so she and Jane got called out of bed at o’dark thirty in order to review some data that was recovered and needed to be analyzed ASAP. An optimist might have thought that only Jane was needed, but most associated with Avengers thought of themselves as realists if not absolute pessimists; especially when it came to Stark. When Jane didn't have enough sleep or other scientists there as a buffer, Darcy’s presence was mandatory to keep Tony alive and in as good of working order as could be expected.

It was just after five in the morning when everything was cleaned up, analyzed, and the Avengers were done with debrief. Darcy was still wired from all the coffee she’d drunk, so she planned to join the group in the common area to decompress and laugh at implausibility of it all.

By the time she made it back from depositing Jane’s notes in the lab, however, the group had spread out. Clint was over in the corner doing the creepy sleep with his eyes open thing again; Tony went to tinker with Mr. Spaceballs’ failed tech; Jane fell asleep and was lightly snoring on a sofa in the corner; Sam had gone back to bed like the responsible sane person he was; Steve and Bucky scurried off to the science floors to see if they could pet the tribbles some more; Fury, Thor, and Natasha were  intensely convening at Tony’s fabulous bar; and Rhodey sat over on another couch with a scotch in hand. Darcy took stock of the situation and figured it was as good a time as any to go introduce herself to one Colonel James Rhodes, otherwise known as War Machine.

Or Love Machine as she called him in her mind; and to Jane when they both had a couple margaritas in them and needed new karaoke inspirations.

The man was smart, accomplished, heroic, and damn attractive. How could she resist? Not to mention she’d always had a thing for older men.

Darcy moved forward and perched herself as seductively as possible on the sofa arm closest to Rhodey.

When he looked up at her curiously, she pointed over to the trio at the bar with a wry smile.

“So, a pirate, a god, and an assassin walk into a bar.”

He blinked at her and threw back the rest of his drink before shaking his head.

“What? It’s hilarious! How can you _not_ appreciate that? You guys are pretty much a walking punchline!”

He chuckled and set his empty glass on the table in front of him before casually leaning back against the cushions and examined her thoroughly.

Darcy thought that reaction was promising.

“I don’t know whether I should be angry or kiss you.”

“Oh. Oh, that.” She stared for another thirty seconds and then shrugged her shoulders. “Eh, it’s a common dilemma. “

“What? Meeting my soulmate? The soulmate that made it so I got crap all through basic from a bunch of guys trying to come up with the best joke about pirates? I was known as peg-leg for months!”

Darcy slid off the arm, onto the actual couch, to squeeze in next to Rhodey. And hello, muscles. She didn’t know if it was the Air Force or the whole War Machine deal, but dude was deliciously firm.

She took a moment to appreciate before trying to distract him from the supposed anguish she’d caused.

“I was referring to not knowing how to respond my awesomeness.”

He snorted but lifted his arm and placed it along the back of the sofa to make more room for her. Darcy took that as an invitation and cuddled in, turning to rest her knees against one of his and her head resting on his arm.

She looked up at him with a brazen smile.

“Besides, your words practically gave me free license to try and piss off every person I flirted with.”

“Yeah? And how’s that working for you?”

“I was thinking you’d be the best one to answer that.”

Darcy rested her hand on his thigh and began stroking her fingers lightly. His whole body tensed and he consciously slowed his breathing.

The elevator pinged and Tony’s voice could be heard as soon as the doors opened.

“Rhodey. I’ve been trying to get you come down to the lab for like ten minutes but Jarvis just keeps telling me you’re busy—uh”

The genius billionaire had finally noticed that Rhodey most certainly was busy and stopped a few feet away. He gaped for a moment before exaggeratedly gesturing at the pair on the couch.

“What’s this? You and Intern?”

Darcy rolled her eyes and felt Rhodey’s chuckle in the arm pressed against his ribs.

Tony fake gasped and pointed to her hand still placed rather suggestively on his friend’s thigh.

“Ms. Lewis, do I need to ask what your intentions are?”

Darcy squeezed the aforementioned thigh and giggled when she heard a grunt come from her soulmate.

“Thoroughly debauched and dishonorable of course.”

Tony grinned lasciviously.

“Good. I could never approve otherwise.”

Rhodey snorted and pulled Darcy up as he stood from the couch.

“Yes, thank you for your concern, Tony. When Jane wakes up, tell her Darcy’s taking the rest of the weekend off.”

“I am, am I?” she questioned with a smile.

Rhodey led Darcy out of the room and into the waiting elevator without a response. She didn't put up any argument. When the doors closed he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Well, if we’re going to be debauched and dishonorable, I figure we better do it right.”

He ghosted his lips along her neck and placed his hands on her hips to pull her closer.

“And that's definitely going to take some time.”


	8. E.T. Goes to the Ball (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy gets stuck in yet another kidnapping situation. At least this time she wasn't the target. Doesn't change the fact that she's not wearing any clothes and stuck in a cleaning closet, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired from angsty stuff on tumblr. 
> 
> Once again, I'm incapable of actually writing angst.

Darcy pulled the weird moon blanket closer around herself and grumbled. This was her third floor-to-ceiling search through the cleaning closet she’d been thrown into and the most helpful thing she’d found was some Windex. She just hoped the intruders had wicked sensitive eyes and slow reflexes.

The day had started off so much better; fantastic even. Late breakfast with Pepper, Natasha, and Jane. Shoe shopping before Natasha had to leave early because of official business for the gala that evening. Then off for some primping that Jane would never admit to loving as much as she did. Stars and space might be her life, but the way to that scientist’s heart was through pedicures.

Everything had fallen to pot halfway into Darcy’s seaweed wrap cocoon session. Turns out the staff was evil, or at least had been infiltrated, and wanted to try and kidnap Pepper. Rookie mistake. Darcy would worry more, but Pepper could definitely handle herself. Plus, Jane would have undoubtedly raised the alarm with the fancy Science! pen and notebook she refused to go without. Tony had tricked out the pen like some eccentric American Q, but Darcy was not going to fault him on that if it meant she could get out of this closet and into some clothes any time soon.

Twenty minutes passed and Darcy took the time to try and fix the moon blanket thingy into some sort of toga between trying to hear anything coming from the hallway and cursing her evil masseuse. Another ten minutes passed and she overturned a mop bucket and began to scrape off as much of the dried gunk on her arms as she could.

The door flung open and Darcy suddenly found herself in the company of one very large, very muscley, and very attractive dude in full tactical gear.

“Please tell me you’re my ride out of here.”

He stilled and turned. Darcy caught sight of his metal arm and sagged with relief.

“Barnes! Thank god. I’d hoped to meet you under better circumstances but not my fault when overconfident villains decide to crash Girl’s Day and Steve hides you away for training all the time. Oh, I’m Darcy by the way.”

He stood silently and stared at her throughout her nervous ramble. She realized the sight she must have made: crouched down on a mop bucket, space-blanket toga and towel turban, still somewhat covered in gunk with the rest sprinkled around her on the ground. So hot.

He finally shifted but it was only to draw his brows together and look at her with concern.

“What did they do to you?”

Darcy choked and then burst out laughing.

“Other than janitorial solitary confinement, nothing I didn’t want them to.”

“You sure?”

Darcy grinned. A protective and heroic soulmate? Yeah, she could have done worse.

“Get me out of here, soldier, and I’ll explain the beauties of facials and body wraps.”

He nodded but still looked worried.

“The team has the rest of the area secured. We’re good to go.”

Without another word he walked out of the closet and Darcy hustled to follow him down the hallway. She thoroughly enjoyed the view of him strutting in those black pants, but she had way too many questions to leave it there.

“So, are we going to talk about this whole soulmate thing or are you going to make it weird?”

Barnes halted and turned to face her. Darcy tried to look stern as she stood there, hands on hips, crinkling and leaving a wake of dried powder around her.

He chuckled and shook his head. She let out the breath she’d been holding when his shoulders relaxed.

“What did you want me to do? I thought we were in the middle of a rescue.”

She smiled back at him a plan forming.

“Well, I do need a date for the gala tonight and something tells me you’d definitely fill out a tux perfectly.”

“You usually ask strange men out in the middle of hostage situations?”

“Nope, but I figured I’d make an exception for you.”

He laughed outright and Darcy called it a win.

“Perfect. Now if you can find me a robe before we meet up with the rest of the team and I’ll see what I can do about making this gala worth your while, hot stuff.”


	9. In the South Land There's a City (Darcy/Remy LeBeau)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy headed on down to New Orleans. She definitely found the magic; good and bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt on tumblr. 
> 
> So, with my Remy imagine a mix between the Taylor Kitsch version and X-Men The Animated Series. Basically, he looks like Taylor but is able to maintain a real and steady Cajun accent. Also, he's a bit more suave than the cartoon and doesn't refer to himself in the third person. Sorry if you liked that quirk, but it drives me bonkers.
> 
> Also, some of the descriptions feel a little bit Harlequin but I just couldn't resist!

“Darcy, go to New Orleans and accept this award for me. Darcy it’ll be like a vacation. Darcy it’ll be tons of fun.”

Darcy grumbled to herself as she stared at the map on her phone trying to locate the restaurant recommended by the guy at the conference center. It was going on twelve hours since her last real meal, her head was killing her, and her hands had started to shake from low blood sugar two hours earlier. Not Darcy’s definition of fun.

“Yeah, fly first class, that’s nice. But get stuck on the plane for an extra two hours with a handsy drunk. Sure, Stark will pay for luggage, then the stupid airline will send it to freaking Minneapolis. ‘All you have to do is smile and say thank you,’ yep, to a bunch of stuffy tools plied with cheap champagne while I'm wearing my grubby travel clothes knowing my freaking awesome dress is in effing Minnesota.”

Her mumbled rant was interrupted as she got another message notification.

“I swear, Stark, if that’s you asking for proof that I’m earning my Mardi Gras beads I’m gonna find a way to kill you from here.”

Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before consulting the map on her phone again, ignoring whoever was texting her.

An angel of an awkward scientist had told her there was an amazing local restaurant that was just a couple blocks away, so she had escaped the patronizing academics and minuscule hors d’oeuvres as soon as she could.  But she couldn’t exactly remember the name of the restaurant and the directions had been kind of vague. Which was why she was angrily muttering to herself while standing on a sidewalk staring at her phone. And why she had no warning when someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her into an alleyway.

Natasha was definitely going to make her go through situational awareness training again. Awesome.

“Listen up,” growled the guy holding her. He had one arm wrapped firmly around her waist and the other lifted to cover her mouth with his monstrous hand. He also had no problem holding her off the ground, so the dude had to be huge and way strong. What a great day for her taser to be in the stupid Midwest. “We only want what’s in your bag, so as long as you’re quiet there shouldn’t be any problem. Got it?”

She’d heard a mugging would be over faster if you gave the mugger what he wanted. There was no way she could fight him off at that moment, so Darcy nodded and he lowered his hand from her mouth to firmly pin her arms to her sides with both of his enormous arms. Stark was totally going to reimburse her for this.

Wait, the guy said we. We?

Just then a smaller goon started coming down the alley towards them. He walked straight to Darcy and cut the strap of her bag to grab it and start rummaging around. She recognized the ugly tweed and badly-tied bowtie from earlier that night. So much for being a nice awkward scientist looking out for her sustenance-based needs; douchebag criminal it was.

But why would a mugger take time to blend in at a science conference to set up a mark? Why suggest a fake restaurant and not try and seduce her or something? Okay, maybe that was a little too James Bond, but things just seemed odd. Nevertheless, Darcy’s ‘dangerous situation zen’ had kicked in and the men seemed to genuinely interested in only her bag so she kept quiet and tried to notice any details that could help later.

“Mais, what have we here?”

Was there some alleyway party memo she'd missed?

Yet another guy walked into the alley and Darcy wondered if the whole situation was karmic payback for something. The man holding Darcy tightened his grip and breathing became more difficult. She did notice, however, that the faux-scientist straightened and dropped her bag to pull a gun out of seemingly nowhere. So, the newcomer wasn’t one of their Science! assistant assailing numbers. That had to be good, right?

“This isn’t your fight, LeBeau,” growled the overenthusiastic bear-hugger.

Darcy found that intriguing and examined the recent arrival to their illicit alley party more closely. The man didn’t seem fazed at all to find two men mugging a woman. Nor very upset that there was now a gun pointed at him. In fact, he seemed downright casual as he sauntered closer.

“Perhaps; but this is my town and I don’t find it very hospitable of you to welcome our visitors in such a way." His eyes moved over Darcy for a moment before shifting back to the man with the gun. "Especially ones as pretty as this.”

He continued to stroll forward as he focused solely on Darcy. Once he drew nearer she got a much better view of him. He was tall and gave off an impression of serious...something, and had a catlike grace that reminded her of Natasha’s lethal elegance. Darcy had spent enough time with Stark to recognize a man who had nice clothes that didn’t conspicuously scream money; and this guy's matching vest and trousers with silk shirt definitely qualified him as a man with money. Not to mention he was hot. Seriously freaking hot. She'd never thought of a man as sultry before, but damned if this one didn't fit that bill with that scruff and those cheekbones. 

He chuckled at her perusal and the sound seemed to reach deep inside her.

“Looks like you found yourself some trouble, cher.”

Her soulmate was a hot Cajun who found her at a time like this. And she didn't know if he was referring to himself or the baddie as 'trouble'. Figured. Darcy let out huff of laughter, startling her attackers as they looked nervously between the two. A bemused smile lit up her soulmate's face. Hot damn he couldn't get any hotter, could he?

Focus, Darcy. Focus.

“Care to share what is amusing you so?” he drawled still smiling.

The fake-scientist/genuine asshat hurriedly moved behind his cohort to whisper sweet illicit plans in the taller man’s ear. The dumbasses started arguing with each other in some foreign language, not paying attention to what Darcy was saying. She figured, with the man being her soulmate and all, he was more likely to help than hinder at this point and went for it.

“With the way my day has been going, I totally should have expected to meet my soulmate during a mugging.”

The Cajun was delighted. Darcy swore she saw a red glow coming from his eyes and felt her skin tingle.

“That so, ma belle?” he purred.

And that was so not fair. A man like that should not make sounds like that. Definitely not when she was still being squished by convict Bigfoot.

“Apparently," she huffed. "So are you going to help me or do I have to figure out how to take care of these douchebags on my own?”

LeBeau put his hands in his pockets and leaned back to look her over with a smirk.

“That was not the most polite way to ask, non?”

“Seriously?” She would have thrown her hands up in exasperation, but they were still being held by her overgrown assailant as he continued to argue with his partner. “I’m so not up for this today.”

“Mais, it is a shame your day has been so unfortunate,” he crooned with raised a brow.

Darcy knew that look. Steve had a remarkably similar one whenever he was being a little shit and wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted.  And fate had gifted her with a soulmate just as helpful. She wondered if she could argue for a return on this one if he didn’t get to saving her ass soon.

“Fine," she sighed. "Will you please help me Mr. LeBeau.”

He looked pleased as punch with her acquiescence until she got to his name and his face became serious and roguishly intense.

“Remy, ma belle. You’ll call me Remy.”

Remy LeBeau. That sounded familiar, but with the lingering headache and lack of proper oxygen intake Darcy wasn’t able to place it. She shook her head to focus and tried to not wince at the movement.

“Remy,” she breathed as she met his eyes again. “Please.”

The whispering behind her became more heated and her wayward soulmate/rescuer straightened. He started to look as tense as Darcy would have expected him to be from the beginning and she wondered what her assailants were saying.

“I’m afraid it’s about to get worse, cher; this isn’t a mugging.”

Darcy stared at him to try and make sense of what he'd said but his attention had focused on her attackers.

“Isn’t that right, boys?” he taunted. “Who sent you?”

The impostor academic/true asshole seemed to be the brains of the operation and now took a step to the side to face off with Remy.

“I told you, this has nothing to do with you, LeBeau.”

The goon restraining Darcy once again tightened his grip, and this time she couldn't hold back a wheeze. Remy heard her and pulled his hands out of his pockets; there _definitely_  was a red glow coming from his eyes now.

“My soulmate has everything to do with me, fils de putain.”

Darcy wasn’t fluent in any foreign language, but she certainly knew how to swear in a few. And from Remy’s tone, shit was about to go down.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” squeaked the thug holding Darcy.

He suddenly dropped her to sprint the opposite way down the alley. Darcy wasn’t ready and hadn’t been able to catch a full breath with the continual increase of squeezing earlier; her knees buckled and her head connected with the brick building next to her. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Remy lunge forward but the dickhead was closer and shoved his gun against her temple.

“If you had just left, LeBeau, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. We only wanted the data." Insert drama llama villain pause here. "But now, I think she’s much more _valuable_ to us.”

“That was unwise," the Cajun growled.

The gunman took a step back and Darcy shifted to lean against the wall and watch what was happening. Or try to as she squinted through the now-blistering headache and blood from what must have been quite the gash on her forehead. Remy had stalked closer and was now holding a playing card, fingers glowing, eyes blazing.

Oh, he was that Remy LeBeau.

Otherwise known as Gambit.

Huh.

The card flew and her erstwhile mugger was thrown ten feet to crash into a dumpster with enough force to dent the metal.

It seemed like slow motion but Darcy had turned her head quickly to follow the thug’s trajectory. A poor choice. Nausea kicked in like a bitch and she sank to the dirty ground trying not to lose what little hors d’oeuvres she still had in her. She closed her eyes and breathed to deal with the adrenaline surge squeezing everything in around her and making her skin feel tight.

When she opened her eyes, Remy’s concerned face filled her vision.

He murmured a steady stream of French but Darcy had no idea what he said. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had understood as her fight-or-flight instinct decided to kick in and her ears stopped working.

Remy ran his hands along her limbs checking for any major injury before cradling her face to look at the wound on her forehead. Darcy knew he was being gentle but the touch was too much sensation with her adrenaline levels plummeting. She tried to jerk her head away before she swayed and breathed deeply and far too quickly.

It became impossible to focus her eyes on Remy and she groaned.

“I’m about to puke or pass out. Maybe both. Sorry.”

“Merde,” she heard him mutter as everything went fuzzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And of course I had to watch Princess and the Frog for "research". And got to look into the Cajun dialect. So much fun for my little linguist heart.


	10. A Devil and an Angel (Darcy/Warren Worthington III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone thought it was a good idea to get the Avengers, the X-Men, and the Fantastic Four together. Darcy begged to differ, but couldn't argue with the final results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of course Phil lives and gets to manage the Avengers like he was supposed to. And of course Darcy is his assistant. By their sass combined...

As far as training exercises went, this one couldn’t be termed a disaster—yet. Darcy wasn’t sure whose bright idea it was to try and get all three superhero teams together into one relatively small, confined space, but she’d made sure to memorize all emergency exit routes before the day began. Not a bad decision as it'd become blatantly obvious early on that whatever rapport the Avengers had with either the X-Men or the Fantastic Four was negated by the presence of the other team and vice versa. Like petty high-schoolers who didn’t want to be seen interacting with the dorky kid in front of their friends.

If she'd been consulted, Darcy could have told them it was a bad idea.  A very, very bad idea.

“You guys do remember that the last time these teams got together they leveled almost half a Canadian forest, right?”

Coulson continued to watch the viewing screens, but Darcy caught his nose-twitch of acknowledgment.

“Your concern is noted, Ms. Lewis, but this exercise is necessary.”

“Okay, but when your eyes start doing that squinty thing, I reserve full right to gloat.”

At least this fiasco was taking place on a holodeck thingy up at Xavier's. Darcy was in the observation room with Xavier himself and Coulson, safe from the angsty danger below. She hoped she was safe at least.

“Exercise parameters and estimates recalculating: significant increase to duration, casualties, and damages.”

Both Coulson and Xavier sighed at the automated computer update.

The battle scenario had started off fairly well. But now only half of each team was fighting the simulated villains while the other half were fighting each other. Most visibly, the Human Torch kept showboating and singeing whoever he felt like targeting. Storm (of the X-Men; and wasn’t that codename vs. real name debacle confusing as hell over the comms) grounded him with his own personal hurricane until she was distracted by the actual battle. After a little sulk Johnny took advantage of his now rain-free atmosphere and went out to screw around with the rest of the combatants.

Darcy lost track of him but then she saw Steve’s shield fly towards seemingly nothing at all until it connected with the flaming toolbag who had flown into its path. Angel swooped down like the righteous version of the Goblin King and said something that wasn’t picked up on the comms.

Darcy would gladly pay to find out just what it was since Johnny went from dazed to furious in about half a second. That sort of ammunition against the douche could come in handy.

Although, it was probably good she didn’t have that kind of power because before she could register what was happening, Johnny was fully engulfed in flames and going after the mutant like soccer moms after Black Friday sales. Angel, however, had already taken flight and proceeded to lead the Torch on a merry little chase through simulated danger and destruction.

“Seems like those two are playing together as well as they usually do,” Phil commented dryly.

“Indeed,” Xavier sighed again.

Darcy snorted. While Johnny was a tool and this back and forth wasn’t uncommon, it was always instigated by the allegedly more level-headed Worthington; and that was something she could totally get behind.

She’d heard he was a vacuous playboy, but knew better as she’d seen him in action; both as his crime-fighting alter ego and the illustrious Warren Worthington III. While the name screamed nepotism, Darcy knew the guy was on par with Pepper for awesomeness as a CEO. The two regularly met up for lunch, and Pepper had infallible taste, so therefore, Worthington was good people. Not to mention he was literally on a team of 'good guys'.

Then there was the fact that he could rock a battle suit as easily as he did a business suit. Darcy lived with superhero Adonis types and this guy would still give them a run for their money: all goldenly gorgeous and with those amazing wings. She hadn’t officially met him yet; but that did nothing to impede her crush. He definitely knew who she was and they’d shared some flirty glances and smiles when in the same group. But he always had to go do his day job or jump back into crime-fighting before she got a chance to make her move. One of these days, she was going to actually talk to him; and she was going to make it worth her while.

In the meantime, she admired the view as he winged around the battlefield and evaded Johnny. All training villains had been dispatched by this time and the inter-team skirmishes stamped out, so the rest of the three teams all stood around watching the chase as well. The longer Angel was able to stay out of reach, the more intense the Human Torch became. It was like a mid-air ballet—well, Angel looked like a graceful dancer. Johnny just looked like a pissed-off fireball dripping flames onto the spectators below.

Darcy was pretty sure she could’ve heard Sue’s shouts at her brother without the comms.

“Should we do something?” Darcy hedged. There wasn’t anything scheduled for the next couple hours of the superhero retreat and she’d planned on cornering Warren; a task that would be difficult if he wound up in medical with more than singed feathers.

Xavier shook his head and Darcy noticed his surprisingly serene smile.

“No, I believe this issue will resolve on its own.”

Suddenly Angel performed an impressive dive and dodge maneuver and one cocky fireboy crashed into a not-so-simulated, very steel-reinforced wall. Dude definitely wasn’t getting up from that one for a while.

Coulson let out a huff, which Darcy categorized as a chortle in comparison to her guffaw, and called an end to the simulation. Xavier gave her a wink before following her boss out to where the three teams congregated for review. Darcy took a minute to catch her breath from laughing and scrambled to grab her tablet and get out there in time to make the necessary notes. Notes other than the Fantastic Four really needed to get a handler who could effectively chew out the Human Torch and not sound like a whiny kid like Richards.

Xavier followed Coulson’s stern lecture with an encouraging appraisal. The rich man’s good cop to Coulson’s bad cop. After what Darcy considered a far too optimistic evaluation of the teams' improvement compared to the last combined effort, the group was dismissed.

Different heroes and mutants stayed behind to regale each other with battle stories and display wounds or something as a post-battle bonding activity. Darcy looked around for Warren but she couldn’t spot him through all the hulking bodies and figured she’d have to find him later after the adrenaline high wore down.

In the interim, she decided to take have some fun and walked over to where Johnny sat with a specialized ice pack on his face.

“How’s the face there, Torch? Feeling a little flat?”

He grumbled and slowly leaned back against the wall behind him but decided to shift his attitude halfway through in order to remove the ice pack and leer at her.

“You know, you could help me bring everything to its more appealing and prominent proportions, honey."

Darcy arched a brow and didn't respond.

"I'm not talking about my face.”

Always the subtle one.

“Need I remind you that I choose the more direct approach of dealing with sexual harassment than HR?”

She gave him a ferocious smile and shifted her sweater so he could see the taser she carried in a special hip holster for special occasions such as this. He visibly tensed and then winced at the sudden movement.

Darcy:1, Johnny: 0.

Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy saw someone coming to join their little discussion and tried not to squeal when she realized it was Warren sauntering over. Halle-freaking-lujah! She lowered her sweater back over her taser, put her shoulders back, and went about ignoring Johnny to exchange her customary mutual scope-out with Warren.

“Nice moves there, Castiel. It’s always fun until Douchebag Torch gets hurt. Then it’s hilarious.”

Warren had stopped when she spoke, but then grinned, and kept coming forward. She wasn’t exactly sure why he came so close and grabbed her hand, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Direct and intense flirtation it was! Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear and Darcy began to wonder what deity she needed to send a gift basket to.

“Oh, believe me, I aim to please.”

Even after a fight that man smelled amazing. A little bit like the leather of his suit but with hints of some, no doubt, expensive cologne.  

And then her brain caught up and she realized just what he said and she grasped his hand and blinked. Yep, fate was totally getting a wine-of-the-month membership. Or maybe a quiche.

“I look forward to seeing just how good your aim is,” Darcy purred once her brain became fully functional again.

For someone with such a pure codename, he sure had a filthy smile.

“What the hell, guys?”

Johnny was going to need to work on his need for being the center of attention if he wanted to live much longer. Darcy was tempted to call Natasha over and explain just why he needed to die slowly. And the assassin would gladly make sure he suffered for ruining the moment. Instead, Darcy shut her eyes and tried to think of anything other than homicide.

After a second she took a deep breath and opened her eyes again to find Warren still smiling at her—less  dirty promises and more conspiratorial alliance. Clearly he’d had a similar train of thought, so she squeezed his hand and smiled in return.

“Okay, shelving that till later.”

“Promise?” he murmured trying to pull her closer.

“Behave,” Darcy whispered as she poked him in the ribs with her free hand.

She then noticed how closely they were standing and eased back. She was all about letting the world know she’d abso-freaking-lutely won the soulmate lottery, but later. She didn’t want to share Warren right at that moment or have to answer everyone's questions instead of getting to know him a whole lot better as soon as possible. Maybe over a long lunch. Back in his quarters.

A different thought bubbled up and she excitedly clutched his hand with both of hers.

“Hey, can I come to your next working lunch with Pepper?”

“Of course. Any particular reason why?”

She beamed at his immediate agreement. 

“Pepper is ridiculously busy but she and I need to have a secret planning session for Phil’s birthday. And if I try and schedule something he’ll find out and ruin the surprise. Besides, I know you guys spend most of your lunches gossiping anyway and I want in on that.”

He nodded guiltily.

“Works for me.”

“Guys? Did I miss something?”

Damn it. Apparently it was time to start sharing him with others. Darcy shifted to hold Warren’s hand in only one of hers and address Johnny.

“Oh, you know, just me meeting my soulmate. Finally.”

“Hold up. What?”

Darcy snorted and glanced beside her in time to catch Warren’s eye roll.

Johnny's gaze bounced back and forth between the two before he pointed at Darcy aggressively.

“And her words were about injuring me?”

Warren sighed and pulled his hand from Darcy’s grip. She'd thought she wanted to avoid too much attention, but he was taking it a step too far and she was about to protest. That was, until he slid his hand along her back to rest it on her waist. Definitely a better situation.

She decided to leave Johnny to Warren and cuddled into his side. She had far better things to concentrate on. Like just how soft his feathers were and how he shivered minutely and then tensed when she trailed her hand along where his wings met his back. Darcy definitely wanted to forget Johnny when Warren's gaze shifted back to her and was _full_ of suggestive promises.

But Johnny just kept whining.

“You mean to tell me you’ve been picking fights just because there was a chance your soulmark referred to me?”

“I called him a Douchebag Torch. Like there was any doubt,” Darcy muttered.

Warren snorted and glanced back to Johnny with a bored expression.

“He’s been targeting me! And in the middle of fights when I could legitimately get hurt!”

“I’d like to see you prove it,” Warren drawled.

And didn’t that just prove her soulmate was perfect for her?

Johnny gesticulated wildly and let out a few unintelligible squawks.

“That’s bullshit, man,” Johnny finally got out.

"I beg to differ," argued Darcy.

“Whatever. At least now you’ve found stacked and packing over there so I can relax.”

“I don’t know, Torch." Warren shook his head slightly. "It might just be a habit now.”

That remark was followed by more squawks.

Darcy lifted her head and Warren glanced down.

“Remind me to show you the video of when he met Sif.”

“Why’s that?”

“Let’s just say his face suffered greatly at the hands of a mighty warrior."

Darcy heard Johnny muttering to himself about oversensitive Asgardians.

"Ooh, or the training footage from when he decided he was going to try and boss the Hulk around!”

“I can’t catch a break,” Johnny groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one feels a little awkward to me. I had a crush on Angel when The Last Stand first came out and I went back and rewatched it for him. I never realized how small his part was and therefore how little of his personality you actually got to see. I guess teen me only needed the pretty face. Haha.


	11. An Animal Who Dreamed He Was a Man (Darcy/Victor Creed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy Lewis is a mutant who has always feared telling everyone, but when it comes to her soulmate, she might be willing to tell the world the truth.
> 
> Victor Creed has always fought for what he wanted, but when it comes to his soulmate, he might finally be willing to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this came from a tumblr prompt but became a bit of a beast, no pun intended. Okay, maybe a little intended.
> 
> While I know many want to deny that the X-Men Origins movie exists....this is the version I'm mostly basing the character off of here as I'm more familiar with it. Plus, Liev Schreiber is rather attractive.
> 
> Anywho, here's some Victor/Darcy feels and angst. It's a little light in the dialogue at the beginning, but I just wasn't prepared to make this multi-chapter and dialogue would have meant more chapters. Lots.

Victor Creed, as most knew him, disappeared in 1979. Whispers surfaced among more unsavory groups of mutants that someone on Three Mile Island had finally figured out how to kill the vicious asshole. Most said he deserved it. But no one actually knew the truth. They wouldn’t have believed it if they did.

Victor Creed was done with fighting other people’s wars.

All he’d done his whole life was fight. That was what he had to do in order to have anything for himself; no one ever gave him anything, so he fought and took what he wanted. Yet he never wound up with anything to keep.

He’d fought his brute of a father; but the man never wanted him, only the bastard he could never claim. He’d fought with and against Jimmy as rivals, brothers, outcasts; but Jimmy had always wanted someone more than Victor— someone with more restraint, more morals, more fortitude than Victor thought possible from a damned soul like himself.  And Jimmy had left him; left him fighting for Stryker, fighting alone for someone else’s cause. Then Victor had fought against Stryker just as much as he’d served the cursed son of a bitch. Stryker had said he was special, valuable; had promised so much: power, invincibility, purpose—and he took all that away too.

By the time that cooling tower crashed to the ground, Victor felt like it had taken most of him with it. He got off that godforsaken island and found some backbreaking work in the ass-end of nowhere. He hoped it would make do; that the work would drain him to the point he had no strength to fight, let alone the desire to. It wasn’t enough. While the humans were wrecked and beaten at the end of the day he still found himself with just enough left in him to perfect the hate that had been brewing for more than a century.  

Then eight years after he’d walked away from everything he’d known a soulmark burned its way into his skin.

 

********** 

 

Darcy Lewis wasn’t sure when exactly she realized she was a mutant. There was no big dramatic experience that suddenly made her exhibit a power. And it wasn’t like she had a cool mutation of telepathy or telekinesis that suddenly showed up. Darcy could have had so much fun with those. But no. She was left with touchy-feely odds and ends that slowly worked their way into her consciousness as she sensed the emotions of those around her.

There wasn’t going to be any great superhero called The Empathizer. That was just not going to happen. It was bad enough getting bombarded with just how disappointed her mom was with her at times or how her best friend was only her friend because of a crush on her brother. But then she started to emit her emotions. Sure, people could pick up on her body language and whatever cues she put out. But not having a blush response was completely pointless when every single person around her could instantly recognize that she was horribly embarrassed.

Pre-teen years were already tough enough, but then her roiling hormones got the extra addition of bringing everyone else’s feelings into the mix and she wound up sharing hers with the world. That did not a fun puberty make.

 

**********

 

Victor dropped off the grid for about a year after his soulmark appeared; drank himself as close to blackout drunk as he could.

It was a damned cruel joke for fate to finally give him something, someone just for him, once he’d told himself he’d stopped caring. He’d always thought it was just some stupid old wives’ tale. But apparently there was some truth that a watched blank never gets a soulmate, or some shit like that.

And now some, sad soul was fated to the animal that he was.

He pitied them; and he hated pity.

 

Eventually he dragged himself out of his self-imposed isolation and didn’t bother hiding his tracks. If fate had decided he was meant to meet someone, he wasn’t going to try and fight it. No strategy or plan of attack he’d employed had worked for his life so far and he knew he'd never win this one.

It was no surprise that some of those unsavory connections from his past decided to come after him when they caught word that he wasn’t as disappeared as they once thought. While he might have been tired of fighting, it was at least his own war this time; one he’d surely earned.

He fought them; each and every one. Made them all hurt before he finally killed them like they’d planned to kill him.

And he enjoyed it.

Now someone else hurt like he did; someone just as guilty as him.

 

**********

 

Despite being one, Darcy hardly interacted with other mutants growing up. Not that she knew of at least. Even when she did, it wasn’t like they introduced themselves and made it so it wouldn’t be weird for her talk to them. She usually only recognized other mutants because she’d register their fear of discovery. It had a far different quality than say the regular old fear of the wife finding out you’re cheating and wanting to castrate you. That had been an awkward day with her fourth-grade teacher.

Perhaps that fear in the few mutants she met was why Darcy only ever told one person that she was a mutant. Her parents had become concerned with her behavior and attitude and she didn’t know how exactly to say ‘I know you think I’m just your little girl but I’m actually kind of a freak and don’t want you to hate me’; it was a lot for an eight-year-old to try and convey. So her mom and dad did what they thought best. They sent her to a child psychologist.

Dr. Madsen had actually been pretty great; kind and patient, and she swore to never tell Darcy’s parents anything unless it was immediately harmful to Darcy’s health. Since being a mutant didn’t exactly qualify as a danger, Darcy was able to finally talk about being a mutant. And after she talked, she learned. She learned about feelings—all the feelings; what they were, how to recognize them, how to categorize them, how to deal with them. Even after she stopped seeing Dr. Madsen, she kept a notebook to track the emotions she encountered, define and identify them so they didn’t overwhelm her.

She might not have wanted to be mutant, but she wasn’t going to let it get the best of her.

 

Two weeks before Darcy turned thirteen, she walked home from school alone, pining over Bryan from math class. She was in the middle of listing all the reasons why his eyes were the most amazing shade of green when she heard an engine roar. She didn’t pay much attention until the roar was followed by something thunking against metal and glass shattering, lots of tires squealing, and then a muffled thud. Before she could place the sounds the engine roared again and she saw a large car with a smashed windshield tear out of the street half a block up and speed away like she’d only seen in movies.

She ignored her dad’s voice telling her to stay away from anything remotely dangerous and ran up to the corner trying to get a closer look, but the car was already too far gone.

Out of the corner of her eye Darcy saw a lump in the road and felt her stomach drop to her toes. She closed her eyes and swallowed. She’d learned first aid at camp the last summer, she could probably do something, but she was scared. Scared she'd finally be unable to sense emotion. Scared whoever it was in the road wouldn’t be able to feel emotion; because they were dead.

But she heard a groan from the lump and let out a breath. Hallelujah. They were still alive. She could deal with that.

Darcy ran forward while she pulled out her hand-me-down cell-phone to call 911.

The man groaned some more and actually sat up, shaking his head and she paused several feet away. No way should he be moving around so easily after getting run over. She could tell something was way hinky and she was pretty sure it wasn’t Old Man Petersen in a ghost costume.

Then she noticed the very real claws and the crazy sharp teeth the guy was showing off as he grimaced and in pain and held his head. She suddenly felt a lot less like Velma and more like Little Red Riding Hood. And this guy definitely looked nothing like her grandmother. 

Darcy was too caught up in her own confusion and possibly his and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Oh man, oh man, do you need a doctor? A vet?”

The man dropped his hands and stared at her.

An overwhelming surge of rage, envy, and loneliness came out of him then and filled Darcy. He was so full of violence that she shrunk back, clutching her unused phone in her hand and uttering a word that would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap. She was absolutely terrified and didn’t care if she was broadcasting it loud and clear. But she still stood there, rooted to the spot, pretty sure she was about to pee her pants.

He must have registered her emotions as his murderous glare shifted and his emotion evolved. She let out a breath and praised whatever had saved her from the brunt of his anger.

Then he looked down at his hands and she once again felt his emotions rolling through her. The anger was still there, but the envy had shifted to disgust and the loneliness was tinged with the saddest longing she’d ever felt. She gasped at the shock of it all mixing with her own fear.

And suddenly the man jumped up and ran away without a word.

 

That night Darcy kept thinking about the encounter. Sure, the guy was definitely a mutant and had run away crazy fast _like a freaking cat_ on all fours, but that wasn’t what she kept replaying.

She kept thinking about the day her family had gone to adopt a puppy a couple years earlier. There had been a dog there that cowered from her when she tried to pet it and looked up at her with eyes that made Darcy want to cry. When she asked why the dog was so sad the vet explained as kindly as she could that the past owners were mean to it, so the dog was scared. Darcy had been filled with all the righteous fury capable of a ten-year-old and refused to let her family get a puppy when that dog needed someone to love it.

Now what she remembered the most from her encounter with the other mutant wasn’t her fear or weirdness of it all. No, it was the man’s eyes and how they’d reminded her of that terrified dog at the pound.

 

**********

 

Victor didn’t know what he’d expected of a soulmate but it was never a tiny girl, more eyes than face, and far too much depth for such a little soul: a little mutant girl. Even before her emotions hit him he’d smelt her fear and recognized the sheer panic in her eyes.

He was the one who put it there.

Then her pure, unmitigated terror had engulfed him and he finally remembered what it was like to feel that horror and dread inside himself—to be the victim.

And he remembered she wasn’t the only one he’d terrified.

She wasn’t the only one he’d hurt. He’d done far worse, to so many others. All at once he recognized what Jimmy had seen all those years; realized he’d become what Jimmy feared.

 

It took him much longer to comprehend that there was compassion under that little girl’s fear; not pity, not sympathy, just warmth from her soul, reaching out to an animal like himself.

It was that warmth that haunted him for years.

It was the warmth that niggled its way into his brain telling him he was wrong, telling him there was more he could do. So he decided to try—if only to shut up that damn voice.

Victor didn’t think he could become a good man, he didn’t believe he had that in him, but he would become a better man than he was; a man who wouldn’t put dread in that little girl’s eyes.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Darcy may not have been sure when she realized she was a mutant, but she sure as hell knew when she decided it was better not to tell anyone ever again. That particular mental and emotional treasure was during her sophomore year of high school. Darcy was best friends with Laura Witt. They had almost all their classes together, spent every weekend together, and even crushed on the same guys together. Laura said they were actually sisters and Darcy for once thought it might be safe to share her secret with someone other than Dr. Madsen.

Then the news blasted stories about a school for mutants being invaded by the military and Laura said it served the freaks right. Darcy had laughed nervously and tried to hedge around the situation. Laura insisted she could never be friends with a mutant; that they all deserved what was coming to them. It turned into a fight that left Darcy with two options: agree or lose her best friend because she was just another dirty mutant lover. Darcy didn’t agree.

She told her parents that she and Laura had fought over a boy and didn't argue when they said the two would make up.

And Darcy had a hard time making friends after that.

 

**********

 

When the mutant war began in earnest, Victor found that the less reputable people he’d left behind hadn’t forgotten him. They came after him again; but not to kill him this time. No, they wanted him to join them; wanted to use him for their cause, let his anger fight their battles again. He knew if he refused they would never just let him go. So he did what the better man would do.

He stopped them.

Stopped them before they could use him to hurt others again.

He killed them.

Killed them so they’d never have the chance to try again.

This time he didn’t enjoy it and the fact that he still killed them anyway felt worse somehow. But it was the only thing he could do. So Victor let more come, more that would use him, more that would hurt him, and he made sure they couldn’t hurt others.

 

**********

 

Darcy finished high school and got out of her hometown as quickly as she could; went to the farthest university that accepted her and moved on with her life. It was a crazy, random happenstance that her freshman roommate happened to be a huge mutant rights activist. Darcy began to feel safer, worried less, and felt like she could breathe more. 

She never actually told her roommate she was a mutant and certainly wasn’t about to shout her x-gene status from the bell tower or anything, but she finally took the time to practice and develop her powers. She discovered how to search out emotions and not just pick up the most obvious sensations. She worked out how to guard herself from everyone else’s feelings. She still struggled when she was tired or in physical contact with the other person, but she got better at it. She also worked at not putting on a show with her own emotions and controlling her output. By the time she wound up in New Mexico, Darcy was able to not only broadcast her emotions only when she wanted, but in a way share them with others like a reverse empathy. It was a bit of a trip when she discovered that talent and she told herself she was only going to use it for good.

And good it was used for when she joined up with Foster & Co.’s craziness. She used her power to misdirect Jane’s anger and depression after Thor, SHIELD, and Thor 1.5 (aka New York and ‘SHIELD lied to us this isn't a vacation’). Used her abilities to help keep Erik more calm and stable on his bad days post-Loki’s mental hijacking. And then she used her gift to torment Ian and push all those buttons he thought he hid so well. Maybe that last one wasn’t so good, but she could tell how much he really thought he was the shit and it definitely was fun.

Besides, her powers were once again used for good when she found herself smack-dab in the middle of the Avengers and their bat-shit craziness. Her usual caretaking of Jane and Erik continued (the pants issue was a constant battle—with both of them) but she soon found she had a couple of other charges that her talents came in handy with. She helped keep Bruce from hulking out that one time Tony decided a surprise ‘controlled’ explosion was necessary to test out Dum-E’s response time. And she kept Tony from doing sad or guilty Science!, which usually only involved unhealthy hours and labor rather than explosions and mayhem; but still often had unfortunate results.

One day Steve, at his wits end, noticed that Darcy was able to keep things calm in the labs and invited her to the joint meeting upstairs. It was a success, so she kept attending. Then Hill noticed how Darcy actually made solid contributions regarding social media presence and humanizing the team for public cooperation. Darcy found herself roped into the absolute shitstorm of craziness that was Avengers PR and working with the whole team in a public forum. Though, she did discover she could send out emotions to entire press rooms full of people, so that was pretty kick ass.

Things got tricky for a bit when Thor started staying at the Tower more. It must have been some Asgardian voodoo since he was the only one able to detect what she was actually doing. However, and thankfully, Thor never questioned her contributions to the emotional atmosphere and only sent her a knowing smile or gave her a hearty (read: painfully awesome) clap on the back afterwards. She’d probably have to talk about it with him one day, but for now, she just made sure to keep his favorite Pop-Tarts on hand as a silent thank you.

 

**********

 

Victor heard that Jimmy didn’t remember much, that he was now Logan; now officially one of the good guys. But he didn’t really believe it until he saw the other mutant on TV with the X-Men. After that Victor couldn’t avoid seeing him. It was frustrating as all hell; yet, the old envy was gone; replaced with a desire for something other than possession. Victor just wasn’t sure what.

One day he caught a news broadcast about the X-Men and Avengers teaming up to save New York. There she was; talking into the camera and staring right back at him like she had fifteen years before. The news listed her as Darcy Lewis, associated with the Avengers and Victor thought it odd that she was part of the Avengers and not the X-Men, but who was he to question loyalties?

She’d grown into her eyes; and that pervasive warmth grabbed him all over again, right through the screen. That warmth climbed right back in and told him there was more yet to do.

After nearly two centuries of living, he finally knew what he wanted, knew what he needed.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

It didn't seem like a good strategy to be confined in a vehicle when any trigger-happy X-Men decided to attack first, talk second; so Victor walked to the mansion from the main road. Either they had shit security or were being far more reasonable than he’d expected: he walked straight up and knocked on the door.

He recognized Storm as the one who opened the door—her eyes partially cloudy, ready to defend.

“What do you want?”

“Xavier.”

“He’s not here at the moment.”

“I’ll wait.”

Victor stood outside as a conference took place inside the main entryway. He could hear different voices arguing, but didn’t bother paying attention to what was actually said. If they sent him away, he’d just come back.

After a couple of minutes the dispute quieted. Cyclops came out and ordered Victor to walk ahead of him. The other mutant led him around the estate to a side door and stairs that went down to an underground tunnel system.

Eventually Victor found himself in a holding cell. It wasn’t the most welcoming of accommodations, but he’d certainly had worse.

He settled in without a word and prepared to wait.

A few hours later Jimmy showed up with a tray of food, which he promptly dropped in front of the cell bars before crossing his arms. He stood outside staring Victor down with a hostile glare.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nothing to do with you, Jimmy.” The other man stiffened and Victor hummed to himself. “That’s right. It’s Logan now, isn’t it?”

Victor chuckled at the growl he got in response.

“What the hell do you want, Creed?”

“I already told you. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

 

The next couple of days passed with various X-Men bringing him trays of food. No one said a word and Jimmy never returned.

Victor continued waiting silently.

 

It was late on the third day after he’d arrived when Xavier finally appeared in front of his cell.

“Good evening, Mr. Creed.”

“Xavier,” he grunted in response. 

“I’m sorry our first meeting has to be under such tense circumstances, but I believe even you can understand my colleague’s precaution.”

“Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

“Indeed. Now, what is it that I can do for you?”

Victor paused and thought about trying to put it all into words; having to say everything to this man when he was still trying to understand the details. He growled in frustration.

“It’ll be easier if you just look for the answer yourself.”

“I don’t believe you find that prospect appealing.”

“Never said I’d like it; just said it’d be easier.”

“If that’s what you want,” the older man murmured lifting a hand to his temple.

Victor tensed expecting to feel something, to recognize the sensation of someone poking around inside his head. But there was nothing. The only sign that Xavier actually did anything was the serene smile that spread across his face after a silent minute.

“I understand.”

“Good.”

“But I must have your word that no matter what she decides no harm will come to her.”

“You already know I’d never do that.”

“Yes, I know you feel so now. Nonetheless, as we both know, wants and desires can change and reactions alter when face-to-face with reality.”

“You have my word." He paused and then huffed out a laugh. "You can even have Jimmy there to keep guard if you like. He’d love to take my head off at the first opportunity.”

“I don’t believe that will be necessary. Though, I hope that particular situation will change once the truth of the matter is known.”

Victor grunted.

“In the meantime, I believe I can be of some assistance.”

It took a moment before Victor muttered a response.

“I’m not sure exactly how to say it, but I appreciate it.”

“I believe you just did,” Xavier responded with a nod and smile. “Now, let’s see if we can’t find you some more comfortable accommodation.”

 

**********

 

Darcy took a deep breath and focused on not broadcasting the mad jumble that was her emotions. There hadn’t been any emotional response when Steve first told her Charles Xavier had requested her presence at their next joint team summit. It was in the days following, however, that everything had crept in: fear, paranoia, excitement, hope. She wasn’t sure which one was winning at that moment, but figured it was best to try and keep them to herself and attempt to not hyperventilate before she even got there.

The SUV pulled up to the front of the mansion and a few X-Men filed out the front door as the Avengers clambered out of their assorted vehicles. Greetings were exchanged with surprisingly very little posturing (Darcy wasn’t able to focus enough to smooth out the usual kinks) and the group headed indoors. Darcy tried to distract herself with noticing the architecture, the furniture, the ambiance—anything but her worry over why she had been invited.

“Ah, the Avengers, thank you for coming.”

Charles Xavier rolled into the room. Darcy distracted herself trying to figure out just how his wheelchair worked since it technically wasn't rolling.

“I’d like to speak with Ms. Lewis for a moment.” Oh shit. “If the rest of you would follow Scott and Ororo, you will be able to make it to the conference room before the majority of classes are finished and the students are likely to waylay you.”

The rest of her team follow the two mutants without a word, but Thor noticing Darcy's discomfort paused until she waved him on. He gave her an encouraging smile and loped off to catch up with his teammates.

“If you’d follow me, Ms. Lewis.”

Darcy nodded her head and silently followed the older mutant. She found herself coming up with more outlandish scenarios for why Xavier wanted to talk to her. Was he trying to recruit her? Did someone else know she was actually a mutant? Did she have to leave the Avengers? The last thought was the most terrifying and she was thankfully unable to expand on it as she and the professor had reached his office. It was warm and inviting; or would’ve been if Darcy wasn’t so freaked out.

Xavier moved around to his desk and sent her a comforting smile.

“Ms. Lewis, there is no need to worry. If you are not ready to reveal your nature to your teammates, neither will I.”

She didn’t bother pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. It wouldn’t have been worth it in view of who she was talking to.

“If you would care to sit we can discuss why I asked for your presence here.”

Feeling ten times lighter she walked forward and sagged into the surprisingly comfy chair across from him. She let out a deep breath as he watched her.

“I’m not gonna lie; I was kind of worried this was going to be some sort of intervention or forced outing or something. I was _not_ looking forward to that.”

“I can appreciate the concern. Though, I do feel that when you are ready your team will be more understanding than others may have been in the past.”

Darcy grinned feeling significantly more comfortable.

“Yeah, they’re pretty awesome.”

“Awesome, indeed.“                                                            

He gave her a teasing smile and she found herself returning it before her curiosity got the better of her.

“So, uh, if I’m not here because of…well, me, why am I here?”

He gestured offhandedly with one hand and leaned forward.

“You put it fairly aptly when you described this as an intervention, though, in this circumstance, it is for another individual.”

“That sounds odd, but okay?”

He gave a light chuckle.

“I’ll explain what I can.” He leaned back again, calmly resting his hands on his wheelchair's armrest. “To begin, have you ever heard of Victor Creed?”

Darcy thought for a moment, and while the name sounded familiar, she wasn’t able to bring up any face or person in particular.

“Can’t say that I have.”

“He is otherwise known as Sabretooth.”

“Oh, shit.” Darcy clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I mean, holy crap, who hasn’t heard of Sabretooth? Boy scouts are probably sharing ghost stories about that guy as we speak.”

He gave her a solemn nod.

“Indeed. I fear that many of those tales may be accurate for the man he used to be.”

That caught her attention and she straightened in her chair.

“Used to be?”

“Yes. He was formerly what might be called a rather bad apple."

Darcy snorted at that but quieted when Xavier continued.

"While he has not found his own straight path yet, he has distanced himself from that previous sickness in his life. I believe he has simply lacked the proper and complete motivation to push him towards becoming more.”

“Okay.” Darcy paused trying to figure out what he was saying. “That’s definitely interesting, but what does that have to do with me?”

“He is here and would like to meet you.”

She gripped the arms of her chair and inhaled quickly.

“Say what?”

She hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it got her sentiments across so she didn’t elaborate.

“At this time, I cannot explain the full reason behind it; that is for him to reveal. But I do believe it would be most helpful and illuminating if you were to meet with him.”

“You’re serious.”

“I quite often am,” he joked.

Darcy didn’t quite feel capable of joking at a time like that.

“He doesn’t want to, like, kill me or something does he?”

“I can assure you, he has the best of intentions.”

“All right.” she held up her hands and began to gesticulate with them. “Let me just recap here. Victor Creed who is otherwise known as Sabretooth and one of the most notorious hired muscle for bad mutants and villains the world over has mostly gone straight and wants to meet me and you think this is a good idea but can’t explain why.”

“Succinctly put.”

“Well, I am all about brevity.”

So she was capable of joking at a time like that, but it still was Looney Tunes crazy.

He gave her a moment to process before he spoke again.

“Are you willing to meet with him?”

She responded with the first thing that came to mind.

“Well, hell. If you’re asking, who am I to say no?”

He smiled but then his expression sobered and Darcy was reminded of having to talk to her high school principal.

“I want to be sure you recognize that you’re under no obligation here. I wouldn’t suggest this if I didn’t think it would be beneficial; however, if you do not wish to meet him there will be no negative consequences for you.”

“No, no, no. It’s fine. I totally trust you.” Darcy slouched back down in her chair. “I just…did not expect this when I woke up this morning.”

“I’m not sure many would. “

A few minutes later, Professor Xavier led her through the mansion to a room at the far end of a distant wing. The far-away location wasn’t surprising if they were really housing the infamous Sabretooth inside. Xavier knocked on the door and moved aside. A gruff voice from within called “come in” and the professor looked at Darcy expectantly.

She straightened her shoulders and opened the door. The curtains had been drawn and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim interior as she walked in. After a moment she realized it was a small bedroom and that one enormous man was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed and back against the wall.

He didn’t seem inclined to begin conversation and held himself unnaturally still as he watched her, so she took a minute to look him over as well. He wasn’t a bad looking guy (honestly, most villains weren’t). He was rather appealing in a scruffy way and bulky enough to suggest he was just as strong as the stories suggested.

Then Darcy noticed his hands resting on his knees and took a step closer to get a better look. He had claws; claws that suddenly brought up a memory she hadn’t thought about in a long time. Her gaze jumped to his face. She knew those eyes.

“I remember you.”

At her words he released the breath he’d held and dropped his head back to the wall behind him.

“And now it’s up to you to tell me if that’s good or bad.”

Oh, so that was why he wanted to meet her.

Shiiiiit.

“You wanna let me know what you’re feeling over there? You’ve gotten better at hiding it since we last met.”

Darcy trusted what Professor Xavier had told her, but acting on it was proving difficult head on, so she opened her mouth and once again blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I wouldn’t exactly describe our last encounter as ‘meeting’ each other.”

Always trust her brain to avoid the issue at hand. He seemed fine with it, though, as his lips quirked up in a smirk, which revealed some intense canines.

Yeah, she’d forgotten about those.

“And what would you call it?”

Darcy would have loved some more avoidance topics right then but her brain decided to fail her. Instead she merely stood there, heartbeat increasing and breath coming faster, unsure and mentally scrambling. She didn’t know what he wanted, didn’t know what she wanted; didn’t know what the hell to do.

“Why don’t you just read me?”

She paused her rapidly spiraling thoughts to stare back at his face.

“Huh?”

He lifted his head from the wall to look at her more directly.

“That’s what you do right? You sense and emit emotions? Because that might make this situation go smoother.”

“Uh, uh, yeah.”

 “I don’t want to have to try and explain why you passed out from just talking to me. So read me. See if that answers any questions for you.”

Victor slowly brought his hands from his knees to clasp them together and rest them in his lap.

“I, ,uh, I didn’t want to pry.”

“I’m your soulmate.” His lips twitched up into a small grin. “Who better to pry into?”

She tried to give him a smile, but the results must have been pretty abysmal considering the grimace he responded with. Watching him clearly wasn’t helping, so she closed her eyes and focused; concentrated on him and the emotions she could sense.

The anger she’d prepared herself for wasn’t there and she let out a sight of relief. There was still a lot of loneliness and envy and she didn’t think that Dr. Madsen would find that very healthy. But underneath all that there was a nervousness interwoven with a wisp of hope. She’d trusted Xavier but hadn’t fully believed his words about Victor Creed searching for his path until that moment.

Darcy realized she was that path.

She took a moment to compare the man she'd originally met with the one before her. He'd never be a bastion of wholesome righteousness like Steve or Thor even. But she didn't want that. She wanted the man who would understand her, the man who would try, and who would trust. He'd definitely done that by going to the X-Men.

And now it was up to her to trust the hope she’d found growing in Victor. It was up to her to trust her soulmate—to trust herself. 

She opened her eyes and gave him a genuine smile.

“Well, I guess we better go introduce you to my team.”

“You sure that’s safe?”

“Safe? No. Necessary? Yes.”

He still made no move to get up.

“Com on, we might as well get it over with. Besides I’ll want you there for moral support when I tell them the truth.”

“That I’m your soulmate?”

“Nope.”

He raised a brow and tilted his head.

“Well, yes, that too, but also that I’m a mutant. I think it’s about time they knew and you seem like pretty good backup.”

Darcy smiled again and held her hand out to Victor. He stared at it a moment before unfolding himself to stand next to her. He waited another couple of breaths, searching her eyes. Finally, he gave her a small smile and gently took her hand in his massive one. Her guards were lowered and the sudden contact allowed his full range of emotions to bombard her.

Darcy was now overwhelmed by that hope from before; a hope now laced with a fire that had everything to do with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I kinda feel like this is me now.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  


	12. Known Only to a Few (Darcy/Heimdall)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a trip to Asgard, it turns out that Darcy is getting more than just an intergalactic acquaintance out of her introduction to Heimdall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took me longer to get out than I thought it would. But, here's this little beaut from a tumblr prompt. I decided to take a new approach to how Asgardian/Midgardian soulmate bonds would appear, so yeah. 
> 
> Here you go!

“Tony, Tony, Tony!”

Darcy skidded to a halt next to said genius’ desk.

He didn’t bother looking up from whatever think he was soldering.

“What, what, what?”

“I’ve got a mission for you.”

At that he set down his tools and glanced at her. She held in her laugh and urge to quote "You odd?!" as his magnifying-glass headgear reminded her of the father in Beauty and the Beast.

“Lewis, I already told you, I refuse to alter Barton’s special arrow tips. I insist on maintaining developer integrity and I'm sure there some sort of principle to the matter I should be concerned about.”

Darcy huffed out a breath as she rolled her eyes.

Tony mockingly huffed back.

“I’m so past that. I have a new task for you.”

“Okay,” he took of the headgear and set it on the table next to him. “You’ve got my interest. Go.”

“I need you to create a cooler or whatever that keeps food warm instead of cold.”

He reached back for his headgear.

“I believe they already have those and they’re called chafing dishes.” He paused with the headgear in his lap and waggled his brows at Darcy. “Although, with a name like that you’d think—“

“Tony! Focus!” She clapped her hands a couple times and continued talking once his eyebrows stopped moving; he was annoyed but she at least had full his attention. “I need something that will keep food at optimal temperature, not just keep it from getting cold faster; and something can stand up to inter-dimensional travel.”

“Why would you need that?”

“Jane’s taking me to Asgard with her!”

“And?”

“And I feel it’s required that I bring a proper gift to them as hosts and what better to share joy than our culinary masterpieces?”

Tony nodded his head for a moment but then narrowed his eyes and gestured at her with a screwdriver she hadn’t known he held.

“You _are_ bringing Lupe’s, right?.”

That deserved another eye roll.

“As if that was ever a question!”

He nodded again.

“Done. You can pick it up tomorrow.”

 

Jane must have loved  travelling by Bifrost so much because she had Thor to hold onto. For Darcy, it felt like she was being pulled at the speed of light (which she kind of was) without any support; just all of her molecules being yanked across the universe with no specific point pulling or pushing. Which, you know, they kind of were. So, while she clung to her Stark Burrito Chamber (patent pending), it did not compare to the comfort that must have come from a massive hunk of Asgardian like Jane had.

Darcy had hoped to arrive in Asgard with style and, if not grace, then panache; she’d even washed and styled her hair and done her makeup (an accomplishment for a Monday morning.) But somewhere in the middle of all the rainbow swirls and stars, Darcy closed her eyes so she wasn’t prepared for suddenly stopping and didn’t brace herself. Thor had seemed to forget the need to warn her about that, too. So, she found herself in a sprawl on the floor of some huge dome, the burrito chamber several feet away on its side.

Her dedication to culinary exposure for Asgardians made her focus on her cargo rather than her embarrassment. Darcy hoped she didn’t kill the carrier but knowing Asgard they probably had some for magic microwave that could reheat burritos to the perfect temperature without damaging the proper tortilla consistency anyway.

Darcy heard a step and turned her head from where she still lay on the floor to look up at a large, gorgeous man with matching gold armor, helm, and eyes gently smiling down at her.

“Are you injured, Darcy Lewis?”

Beautiful and concerned about her? Sign her up! Then Darcy realized he knew her name and didn’t seem to have anything against her as a Midgardian (if his lack of judgment over her want of Bifrost landing experience was anything to go by). Must be Heimdall.

Despite the fact that the guy could and probably had seen her in some of her more spectacularly embarrassing moments connected with Jane, she was disappointed that this was how their first official meeting was playing out.

With a grumble she pushed herself to her knees.

“No, I’m fine. Just wanted to make the floor’s acquaintance. What is this? Marble?”

With a chuckle, Heimdall held a hand out to help her up. Darcy, never one to turn down a true gentleman’s offer of assistance, took the proffered hand with a grin. But before she could stand, there was suddenly a massive gust of swirling air and a bright golden light that had Darcy closing her eyes again.

When she opened them this time, she was standing, still holding Heimdalls hand, but now decked out in some serious armor with Jane and Thor staring at her. And she felt... _something_ coursing through her body.

“What the hell just happened?”

Darcy dropped Heimdall’s hand to pat herself down as she looked down at herself. She wore some kind of thick pants and boots that must have given her a couple inches because she was taller that she'd been a couple seconds earlier. Her torso was covered in leather and a burnished bronze metal with what looked like planets and stars interwoven with some kind of Celtic knots patterned into the surface. And was that a helm on her head? She reached her hands up. Yep. Helm it was.

She lowered her arms and looked at her companions hoping for some kind of explanation, but Thor was laughing heartily and giving Heimdall a big, slap-filled hug.

Jane just shrugged when Darcy glanced at her, so Darcy cleared her throat until Thor released his friend from their intense bro-greeting.

“You and Heimdall are to be congratulated, Darcy.”

Thor grinned at her wildly as he came forward to wrap his arms around her and lift her up in her own enthusiastic hug. In his exuberance, her helm fell off and landed on the ground with a clang.

She looked at the other two from over Thor’s shoulder as he gave her ribs a massive squeeze. Jane had that ‘this is a puzzle and I need to solve it’ look. Heimdall...well, she had no idea what kind of expression the dude had, given she’d just met him. But if she were a betting woman, she’d say the other Asgardian’s face was a mix of gobsmacked and hesitantly pleased. Kind of like Fury’s face when he found out that Hill and Steve had been secretly dating for months.

Darcy poked Thor in the ribs as best as she could with both of them in armor and him holding her up off the ground.

“Uh, Thor, you kinda need to explain what’s going on.”

He set her down and rested his hands on her shoulders and dipped his head to smile more directly in her face.

You are fated.

Jane gasped but Darcy merely blinked at Thor as he clapped his hands on her shoulder once more, gave her another quick hug, and walked back over to Jane.

“You’re _soulmates_ , Darcy.”

Darcy’s gaze shot to her boss.

"What?"

"Heimdall is your soulmate."

Darcy shook her head.

“I’m a blank.”

“In our world, maybe."

Jane's smile had started hesitantly as she explained the situation but it grew even broader then as she gestured at the new armor Darcy wore.

"Signs point to an entirely situation here, however.”

“But, how?”

Darcy looked at Heimdall. He'd lost his smile and stared at her as though he could make her understand what he was thinking, but she must have been on a different frequency as she wasn’t picking anything up. The blatant silence wasn’t helping her rising panic, so Thor who always seemed to have a sixth sense for her discomfort, took pity and explained.

“Soulmates are not as common on Asgard as they are on Midgard. We do not bear the words as you do, but rather are joined at the soul once we encounter our matched half.”

She glanced back over to Heimdall for confirmation that that’s what he had been trying to communicate and the man slowly nodded.

Holy crap.

Darcy was sure she must have looked gobsmacked then and Heimdall’s lips twitched.

Thor, excited  golden retriever that he was, pulled Jane in for her own side hug/cuddle while he continued to address Darcy.

“And indeed you are fortunate to have been fated to the gatekeeper of all Asgard.”

“If he’s the gatekeeper, does that make me the keymaster?”

Jane snorted but then cleared her throat and gave Darcy a stern look once she looked at her.

“I know you joke when nervous, Darcy, but now isn’t the time.”

Darcy shook herself and nodded a couple times.

“Right. So, soulmates.” She moved to fold her arms but got distracted with the unfamiliar bulk of her armor and pointed at herself instead. “Soulmates doesn’t explain why I Sailor Mooned.”

Thor looked at her questioningly and Jane rolled her eyes.

“She wants to know why she’s in armor.”

“Totally that. And why I feel all…" she wracked her brain to label the sensation that seemed to pulse through her blood, "powerful?”

Thor nodded in understanding.

“As I said, we do not have marks designating our fated ones as Midgardians do. Rather, we share our power.”

Asgardian say what?

“Power? Like magic?”

Heimdall cleared his throat and Darcy looked over at him just grateful that he finally seemed willing to give some input.

“When an individual without,” he paused and gave Darcy a wry grin, “ _magic_ is matched with one who possesses said magic, the first gains the power of their fated.”

“And I got your powers?”

“Yes.”

“What the heck does that even mean?”

“You will be able to see and hear almost all, but you must know what you are looking for to truly find it.”

Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Oh sure, that explains everything.”

There was some shuffling from across the dome and Darcy looked back at Jane and Thor.

“You have much to discuss. We shall leave you two to become more acquainted,” Thor gave them both another beaming smile. He seemed torn between actually following through with his comment or pulling them both in for another hug. Jane settled the matter by gently leading him out of the dome with an encouraging smile aimed at Darcy.

Darcy watched them take off flying with Mjolnir before returning her attention to Heimdall. He seemed content with once again just standing there silently appraising her.

Fine then. She'd just have to make him give her some answers. She propped a hand on a hip and raised an eyebrow.

“How did you not see this? I thought you see everything.”

“I see what is; not necessarily what will be.”

“Okay, thanks, Mr. Enigmatic.”

His lips twitched again and his shoulders seemed to relax. She couldn’t really tell with all that armor going on, but it seemed like his shoulders had dropped at least a fraction of an inch, so she was going to take that as a good sign.

“So, uh, how do you feel about this whole ‘fated’ deal? I know Thor’s excited but you are harder to get a read on.”

Heimdall took a deep breath and let it out before he took off his helm and tucked it under his arm. Darcy tried not to fidget and clasped her hands in front of her counting in her head. She’d gotten to eight when he finally made eye contact again.

“Would it be dishonorable of me to ask your emotions on the matter before I answer?”

“I’m inclined to say yes,” Darcy paused and walked over to where her forgotten burrito chamber sat and set it right side up before turning back to him. “But you’ve had like a couple thousand more years to develop your diversion tactics so you addressing it at all earns you points.”

He gave her another small smile.

“Besides, I get the feeling you’re even more worried about this than me.”

He tilted his head and furrowed his brows.

“What leads you to believe this?”

“Well, Thor’s always talked about your valor and decisive behavior. So, you changing your MO means something’s up.” Darcy hesitated but saw his watchful expression and decided to go with her gut and explain what she somehow knew was the truth. “Besides. I’ve grown up thinking I was a freak for not having a soulmate, so having one at all is just kind of a relief. I feel like you probably didn’t have that expectation, so this must be a big deal for you.”

Heimdall watched her for a couple of seconds before some thought he must not have liked struck him and he came closer and stopped a couple feet away with an serious expression. Dude was even bigger than Thor, if that was possible, and Darcy’s first instinct would have been to be nervous. But, as he gazed down at her that small smile came back and she felt a hope she hadn’t known she was fighting begin to swell.

“It is indeed of great import to me, but I would not have you think it was undesirable for me.”

Darcy tried to lighten the mood and laughed as she exaggeratedly tossed her hair.

“I know, I’m totally desirable.”

Heimdall didn’t laugh at her joke; instead his smile became more bold as he reached out to touch a strand of her hair.

“I would not argue with you on that matter.”

He stared intently at her and Darcy felt as if the gold in his eyes was melting and the warmth was suffusing throughout her body. She gasped a quick breath, taken by surprise as she'd never had that quick or intense of a reaction before. But then she remembered just where they were and decided it was best to shelve that till later.

“We’ll come back to that." She gave him a smile to soften the blow and he nodded once to acknowledge her decision and took a small step back. Darcy wanted to pout at the distance but found she could think better without the scent of cedar and leather and _him._  She shook her head to get her thoughts back in line and started with her first question. "Right, explain to me some more about what all gaining your powers entails.”

He chuckled and Darcy knew it didn't take any magical sight to see where her train of thought had been going. But Heimdall didn't push the matter and instead answered her.

“You will have the sight and be able to see all of the nine realms. It will take patience and training, but from what I have seen of you, I know that you will indeed be powerful.”

“You were watching me?”

Darcy smirked and poked him in one of his massive arms; an arm that felt like a freaking rock under all that leather. That would require further investigation in the future.

“In truth, I began watching Jane Foster for the prince. But as you were often present I began to look for you as well.”

She dropped her hand and swallowed. Focus!

“I’m going to take that as a good sign.”

“You were compelling to see. And in truth, I felt drawn to you even then.”

It was her turn to chuckle.

“And you know just how to flatter a girl."

"Is it flattery if it is truth?"

Darcy's breath hitched but then she noticed the sly look on his face. Dude was smoother than expected. Good to know. 

She bit her lip and shook her head before she proceeded as if he hadn't said anything.

"Okay, so you are able to see things...which makes me wonder what all you saw, but that’s another topic we’ll come back to. For now, we've established that I’ll have the _sight_. What else?”

Heimdall shrugged his impressive shoulders.

“I am known for my abilities as a warrior and these may extend to you.”

“So, I’m going to be a total badass fighter now, then?”

“Perhaps,” he said on a laugh.

“Awesome.”

"Is there further information you wish to know?"

"Oh, you bet your undoubtedly fine Asgardian ass there is, but I feel we've discussed enough serious topics for now."

Darcy picked up the burrito chamber again and held it up towards her new soulmate.

"Want a burrito?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I finally got a job. Yay!! But I might not be writing/updating as much. Boo. So, yeah; there's that.


	13. Way Down on the River (Darcy/Remy Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy may have fainted when she met her soulmate, but it wasn't to do with him, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you asked and my brain answered.

Darcy groaned and tried to pull her muddled thoughts together. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been awake but things were starting to come into clearer focus. She had fuzzy memories of someone carrying her, bright lights, and lots of questions she wasn’t sure she’d answered correctly.

It was like finals of her freshman year all over again; and that was a period of time she never wanted to redo.

But if she ever wanted to face Natasha again she better ignore her pounding head and try to examine her surroundings.

She was under some kind of blanket in a massive bed that must have been ridiculously comfortable considering it felt nice while her whole body felt like it was constricting on itself. She slowly moved her head to look around a dimly-lit room she had never been in before; or at least not one she’d been in during her waking hours. She was pretty sure she’d had a couple of Harlequin themed dreams in her teenage years that could totally have been set there, though. The room was also filled heavy and intricate antique furniture that her mother would have killed for and deep jewel-toned fabrics made up the upholstery and tapestries. Legit tapestries.

And the fireplace had a real fire burning in it.

Rock on.

Beyond the crackle of the fire, Darcy noticed she could just make out a couple of men’s voices somewhere nearby and attempted to sit up quickly;  but her attention-whore of a headachey brain nixed that idea. Instead, she carefully pushed and rolled herself to a seated position against the headboard to wait.

And wait.

It might have only been a couple minutes but she’d never been known for her patience.

As no one seemed to be coming any time soon she attempted to put everything together.

There was the flight from hell.

The stuffy scientists.

The alley.

The….soulmate.

Oh yeah.

Remy LeBeau.

Darcy winced.

She hadn’t heard bad things about him, per se. But there wasn’t anything glowing either.

When the X-Men came to the tower for joint training and Logan had had enough of Summers and couldn’t put up with Tony’s short jokes anymore, he’d often find her in her corner of the lab and they’d watch bad detective and action movies while eating all of Jane's snacks. It had become a game for both of them to describe which villain or failure-at-life hero (aka Clint or Tony) would have caused the problem if it took place in real life.

During those viewings, Logan hand made a couple off-hand remarks about situations being the kind he wouldn’t be surprised to find LeBeau in.

If Darcy remembered right, they usually involved some sort of seduction, gambling, and often thieves.

Not exactly the best of recommendations.

A soft knock at the door had Darcy glancing over at a man who looked about seventy and had a friendly smile as he moved from the doorway and walked towards the bed where she lay.

“Looks like Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken.”

Given her earlier misjudgment of fake scientist, she shouldn’t have trusted him quickly, or at all really, but he seemed every bit of stereotypical southern gentleman with a calm, steady voice and lines from laughter etched into his dark-amber-colored skin. Plus, his hair was tufted up in odd spots and it was clearly obvious he was wearing a pajama top tucked into his slacks and house shoes without socks; the guy had clearly gotten out of bed for this visit.

And Darcy didn’t know of any villains who made house calls.

He paused and gestured at the side of the bed with a questioning look. At her nod, he sat on the edge, lifted a knee to angle himself to face her as he tipped an imaginary hat.

“Doc Marlon at your service.”

She gave him a small smile and awkward wave.

“Oh, hi. I’m, uh, I’m Darcy Lewis.”

“Yes, Mr. LeBeau mentioned that.”

She raised her eyebrows at that but the man kept talking.

“He also says you had yourself an exciting evening.”

Darcy leaned back with a huff that came out more as a groan as she folded her arms.

“I don’t know what all he told you, but _Mr. LeBeau_ has terrible taste in entertainment if he thought that was exciting.”

Doc Marlon chuckled.

“Be that as it may, I looked you over and you should be fine. You’re not showing any signs of a concussion to go with the nice little head wound you gave yourself.”

At the reminder, Darcy lifted a hand to try and touch her forehead but found it smacked away.

“No touchin’! I’ll not have you messing up my beautiful stitches.”

She winced.

“Stitches?”

“Indeed, little missy. You got yourself four new stitches, which,” he narrowed his eyes, “if you don’t go poking and prodding, will keep you from having any scar.”

Darcy sighed in relief and slouched further into the pillows behind her.

“Thank goodness. I was not looking forward to explaining how I got that to my mother.”

“Certainly.” He nodded with a grunt. “Now, like I said, no concussion from what I could tell, but how are you feeling?”

Darcy silently catalogued how her ribs were kind of sore from being squeezed, her muscles were stiff, her head was pounding, and she still felt jittery from low blood-sugar; she simply groaned in answer to the doctor’s questions and was rewarded with another chuckle.

“While I appreciate your expressiveness, some details would not be amiss. I want to know if there was some reason other than genteel feminine sensibilities making you faint like a right damsel.”

Darcy caught the wink he sent her and snorted.

“My blood sugar is pretty low. And I’m probably dehydrated. I haven’t eaten a real meal in…I don’t even know how long; and with the day I had followed by the ‘excitement’ I’m lucky I only came out with four stitches.”

The older man clucked his tongue and wagged a finger at her.

“You need to take better care of yourself.”

“Believe me, I usually do. And I think I was doing…mostly alright until Remy showed up.”

She forcefully exhaled through her nose when she remembered how the failures of muggers said they wouldn’t have done anything to her once they got whatever data they wanted. But then her 'I'm too busy flirting and giving away the fact that you're my soulmate' soulmate had blown that possibility. Admittedly, Darcy probably couldn’t have taken them at their word, being bad guys and all, but she hurt all over and was feeling contrary and wanted to blame Remy 'excitement' LeBeau.

So she would.

Doc Marlon must have sensed her brewing for a fight and shook his head.

“Now, unlike some present, I _do_ know how to take care of myself; and I will _not_ be getting into that. As long as you're sure you're all right I'll leave you to it.”

Darcy nodded and he patted her elbow, stood, and walked to grab a hat and coat from a chair by the door.

“I expect you’ll be wanting to leave town soon but I’d like to look over you again before you go.”

“Really, Doc; I’m fine. I just need some food.”

“Humor him.” Remy appeared in the doorway with a tray of food as he spoke. He’d changed at some point and if it weren't for the house she might not have known that this man was made of money and trouble. He sauntered over in some soft looking t-shirt that stretched across shoulders in a way that had her feeling far less contrary.

He bent and set the tray on her lap, pausing to send her a smirk.

“And by humoring him, humor me.”

Darcy rolled her eyes as her contrariness kicked back in full force.

“Oh, of course, anything for _you_ , Mr. Lebeau.”

She ignored him as she began to investigate the rice dish on the tray in front of her, but Remy rested a hand on top of one of hers, dragging his thumb along the back of her palm, and she glanced back up to see that smirk still there.

“Now, I thought we’d established, _cher_ ; it’s Remy for you.”

There was a chuckle from the door and Darcy snatched her hand away to look back over at Doc Marlon.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. LeBeau, I’ll be taking my leave. Cora Lee never likes me being out this late.”

“I’ll show you out.” Remy straightened and walked to the door as the older man gave Darcy a stern look.

“Now you stay put and rest, Ms. Darcy. After a good meal you can take some aspirin for your head. After that I suggest plenty of sleep. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Doc Marlon's expression shifted and he gave her one last smile before heading out the door.

She'd figured Remy would just follow him out and had gone back to investigating the food on the tray, but he turned on the threshold and when she glanced up he shot her another of his smolders.

“Eat up; when I get back you and I will talk.”

Darcy resisted sticking her tongue out at his edict but didn’t focus on him much longer as her stomach began growling far too loudly. Grabbing a fork, she dug straight into some sort of dish that might have been a jambalaya but tasted more like manna straight from heaven. The food was rich, savory, and just spicy enough to leave a slight burn on her tongue; ergo, it was perfect.

It was definitely for the best that Remy wasn’t around to hear the moan she let out as the flavors burst over her tongue (sexy suggestions from the peanut gallery were not welcome when she was that hungry). 

Before she knew it, half the food was gone and it seemed like a good idea to take a break from shoveling food into her face in order to catch her breath. It was probably also a good idea to take a drink from the enormous glass on the tray. She was dehydrated after all. After a small sip she took a couple big gulps of lemonade that was just the right balance of tart and sweet.

She set the glass back down and went back to the food when a thought occurred to her.

Did Remy make all this? Specifically for her?

Darcy found herself torn between hoping Remy had made it all and wishing he hadn’t.

On the one hand, she’d probably eat fantastically the rest of her life; a good cook of a soulmate was nothing to sniff at. On the other, she still wasn’t so sure just how much she wanted him in the rest of her life; a dubiously known soulmate was something to pause over.

Damn and double damn.

She began to chew bitterly but still enjoying the food nonetheless.

Remy himself must have taken time to talk with Doc Marlon because she had enough time to eat the rest of her rice at a more leisurely pace, finish most of the lemonade, and move on to some freaking awesome almond cookies before he came back.

“Ca c’est bon. You needed to eat.”

As the rest of her body was still hurting, Darcy’s best reaction was to roll her eyes.

So she did.

“If you weren’t right and the food hadn’t been so tasty I’d comment on you being so patronizing.”

He tilted his head and hummed at her comment. He sat where Doc Marlon had sat earlier.

But his presence felt far more intrusive than the friendly old doctor’s.

Especially when he looked at her like he intended to find a way to never let her go.

“I’m accustomed to getting my way.”

That was dangerous territory.

He held out two aspirin and she thankfully accepted the distraction.

Darcy took the medicine from his hand, ignoring any and all possible sensations that might have come from the contact. She swallowed the pills with a drink of lemonade and narrowed her eyes at Remy thinking of the best way to shift the conversation.

“I take it you’re a man of standing down here in New Orleans?”

“Oui.”

Darcy set her glass down on the tray again and examined him. He leaned back on one hand, the weight of his body pushing down the mattress by her hip. His worn shirt and jeans gave him a relaxed look, especially when combined with the scruff and shaggy hair; but there was still an air of power about him that she now attributed to his mutant abilities. Well, his powers and his cocky personality.

But she figured if anyone had a right to be cocky, it seemed like he did so far.

“The type of man who both scares petty thieves and can get a doctor out of bed to come visit some unconscious woman at who-knows-what time of night.”

“Non. You were conscious.”

Darcy shot him an incredulous look and his lips twitched.

“I did not say you were coherent.”

“Right, so you’re a stickler for nuances.”

“I am many things.”

She got ready for to roll her eyes again but he continued on.

“However, there’s other…circumstances I care to explore.”

That caught her attention.

“What?”

“You were here for a science conference for Jane Foster.”

Darcy sat up a little straighter.

“How did you—“

“I know what happens in my city, cher.” Remy gave her another smug smile and head tilt. “But I don’t know how long you plan to stay.”

She clasped her hands in her lap before beginning to pick at the quilt for something to do.

“Uh, well, my flight back was supposed to be tomorrow but nothing has gone to plan so far during this trip, so it might be never at this rate.”

“Do you want to return tomorrow?”

She didn’t look at him as she continued to trace the stitching of the purple and blue patterns under her fingers.

There was definitely more to what he was saying: did she really want to go back already when she’d just met her soulmate?

And Darcy wasn’t sure.

Remy nodded once and she glanced up. He had a tight smile but didn’t press the issue.

Damn.

Why did he have to go and prove himself to be more perceptive than she wanted to give him credit for? Contrariness and hesitation based on second-hand reports weren’t going to hold out long if he kept this up.

“Do you like New York?”

“Uh…yes.”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

She shrugged.

“I’m just a Science! assistant. I go where Jane goes.”

“Non. You are _much_ more than that, ma belle.”

There was the infamous seduction she’d coming out again. This time she did roll her eyes.

“Stop with the French and terms of endearment already, it’s like you’re trying to charm me.”

He grinned wickedly and shifted the arm he leaned on to the other side of her so he leaned over her legs and came far too close for her train of thought to go on as it normally would.

Instead she found herself glancing down at his surprisingly full lips as he continued to smile.

“There would be no ‘try’ if I was making efforts to charm, _mon amour_.”

Darcy shook her head to clear out the lust fog and focus.

“You don’t even know me!”

“Not in so many words, but I’ve heard plenty. And I like what I’ve seen.”

She paused, knowing she was missing something, but found herself not ready for any more roundabout flirting and dancing.

“I’m so not up for this. I just came here to accept an award and see City Park and some riverboats. But noooo. I have to go and get attacked and get a Cajun lothario as my soulmate.”

Remy’s shoulders tensed but his reply was soft.

“Now, now. You’re getting a might personal there.”

Despite the light tone, she could tell he was serious.

And he was right.

She was being a bitch.

Darcy tilted her head back and breathed for a couple beats before looking back at him and flailing her hands helplessly.

“I just…I don’t know what you _want_ from me, Remy. I don’t know what you expect me to say. What you expect me to do. I don’t even know what _you’re_ going to do, so how am I supposed to know what to do?”

Her voice cut off an octave higher than when she'd started and he hesitated a moment before he answered.

“Do what makes you happy, cher.”

Darcy harrumphed and folded her arms.

“Easier said than done.”

Remy laughed lightly and sat up again.

“Perhaps I’ll see Charles; he has recently extended such a kind invitation to me.”

Darcy stared at him hoping the words would become clearer as she parsed out each piece.

Charles? Invitation?

But between the headache that hadn’t been dulled by the medicine yet and her growing exhaustion from the day she felt like understanding anything was pointless right then.

“Okay. You do you. I’m just going to go to sleep and hope things make sense in the morning.”

He gave a quiet snort as she began rearranging pillows.

“That so?”

She didn’t look at him, merely continued to toss and push pillows around to the proper height and formation.

“Yep. Whoever’s bed this is just going to have to deal with me commandeering it.”

The pillows finally properly arranged, Darcy scooted down until she could lay down fully.

“I don’t think the owner would have much argument against your company.”

Her gaze shot back to Remy.

“This is your bed, isn’t it?”

“Oui.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised. She wasn’t really. She just hadn’t planned on that contingency.

Oh well.

“Whatever dude. I’m sleeping here. You do what you want.”

Darcy snuggled deeper under the covers and emphatically closed her eyes.

“I suspect you have more opinions on the matter, _certainement_.” He teased.

She ignored him.

But he tapped her chin lightly until she looked at him again.

“Before you sleep, Darcy, tell me what you _want_.”

No term of endearment, no teasing.

She stared at his face. No smirk or smolder; just a slight raise of his eyebrows.

He was serious.

The entire situation of meeting her soulmate like she had, having her soulmate be who he was, and her having to make some sort of adult decision would have had her freaking out normally. But there was something calming about his eyes and she felt properly cocooned.

So she breathed deeply and told him the truth, nervous about what he'd think.

“I’m not sure."

He waited silently for her to continue, shoulders held back and hands in his lap.

"I know very little about you other than you aren’t exactly a knight in shining armor, criminals fear you, and Doc Marlon respects you.”

He hummed.

“That all?”

She snorted.

“Well, that and you are pretty handy in not-mugging situations and an incorrigible flirt.”

His grin was quick and she breathed easier, reassured that he wasn’t put off by what she said; the strength of her reaction surprised her but she didn’t have time to delve into it before Remy responded.

“Now those accusations I will not argue.” He stood and then bent to cradle the back of her head as he kissed her temple. “Sleep well, cher.”

He went to the bedside table to slowly move things about on the tray to carry it out, his weight shifting the floorboards beneath him.

Darcy silently watched him taking note of the noises around her.

She hadn’t been afraid of the dark or sleeping in unfamiliar places since she was four; but all the anxiety and stresses of the day began to swoop in leaving the room feeling less harlequin and more daunting and the sounds of the house settling more sinister than quaint.

After everything that had happened that evening, and hell, the whole trip, she was allowed to be freaked out. Or at least that’s what she would claim if anyone ever found out.

But Remy was walking away with the tray and she found herself calling out before he could make it out the door.

“Remy?”

It actually came out a whisper, which she half hoped he wouldn’t hear; but he stilled instantly and turned back.

“Yes?”

“Just…” she hesitated and looked nervously around the room. “Don’t go too far, okay?”

His breath paused and he stared at her intently for a moment.

“Never, ma belle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of yous wants more, let's chat (tumblr is easiest). I'm curious as to what direction everyone would want this to go; especially as I may or may not have some ideas and reservations.


	14. Thrown Together (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Darcy and Sam might have met at the tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted from tumblr. Everyone seems to want some of these two. And I like it!

Thirty seconds after the alarms in the Tower sounded, Darcy heard a thud from inside the ceiling. Clint took it as a matter of professional pride to never give away his position so obviously and in conjunction with the alarm, Darcy was inclined to think whoever was up there was probably of the unfriendly variety. So, she grabbed hold of Jane and dragged the argumentative scientist into the nearest safe room.

Jane, of course, immediately began to pace and grumble.

“They better not be going for my research! I haven’t had a chance to back everything up and I will lose weeks if they mess anything up!”

Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Then let us hope, dear Jane, that they were here to kidnap us instead of your precious research.”

Jane actually looked comforted at the idea.

Used to that level of insanity, Darcy sat down and prepared to wait out the most recent attempt at Siege of Stark Tower. The last one had only lasted an hour and Darcy had learned after the first two that it was easier and safer to just let the heroes do their thing. It only took one encounter to learn to never get underfoot of the Hulk; literally. 

Her pinkie toe had taken weeks to stop hurting.

Thankfully, it was a mere fifteen minutes or so later that the all-clear was given and she and Jane came out.

Everything looked okay and Darcy was about to give a sigh of relief when she caught sight of Natasha and the elusive Sam Wilson talking over a hog-tied, unconscious thug and one of Jane’s most favorite doodads  smashed to pieces in front of the broken lab window.

Natasha had her “you’re being ridiculous but I’ll tolerate you and listen” tilt to her eyebrows, making Darcy immediately curious as to what the gorgeous hero had to say for himself; especially considering the presence of conquered bad guy and broken Science! machinery.

“It’s very important to me that Hill never finds out about this.”

Natasha did her approximation of a snort.

“It’s very important to you that a lot of people don’t find out about a lot of things, Wilson. You only say that because of the paperwork aspect, but I know it’s more than that.”

That sounded interesting, indeed. But before anything else juicy could be let slip, Jane noticed the massacre of her beloved doohickey.

“My equipment!”

Jane ran forward to cradle all the pieces close to her and began to mumble under her breath. The comments were full of threats and promises of maiming, so Darcy figured the scientist would be occupied for a while.

Time to finally make her move on the Falcon.

Considering he kept regular company with most of Darcy’s social circle, the guy was ridiculously difficult to run into. And Darcy had most certainly been hoping for a run-in or two; and with good reason. 

A) She’d seen videos of the guy in action. Only one word was needed for that: Hot. 

B) Anyone who could have running jokes with Natasha that didn’t involve murder or classified information and kept Thor from bringing home multiple animals during that one weird Ferbie mission was good people in her book.

So, Darcy sidled up, gave Natasha a brow waggle, and turned to the man of interest.

“What’s very important to you?”

He froze and stared at Natasha for a couple of seconds. Darcy began to worry she’d made things horribly awkward as per usual but then his gobsmacked expression was directed at her and she was distracted by the fact that none of the videos or pictures had done the man justice.

“As of this moment, you.”

Damn. His voice was fabulous….and wait. Say what?

“Excuse me?”

Darcy ended on a squeak and Natasha gave a light laugh.

“Figures you two would be soulmates.”

The spysassin clapped Sam on the shoulder and gave Darcy a fond smile before walking off, leaving the pair to stare at each other.

“So. Wow.”

He nodded his head.

Unsurprisingly, Darcy was able to come up with a coherent thought first. Well, coherency was relative, but it did form a whole sentence.

“Remind me to tell you how I was worried my freshman English professor was my soulmate because of your words.”

He raised a brow and gave her a sassy smile, clearly back up to speed.

“Yeah, well, thanks for making my words sound like an existential crisis.”

Darcy winced.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

He laughed and waved his hand dismissively.

“Nah. It’s good. My mom will probably kiss you for it when you meet her. My soulmark was probably the only reason why I got my act together faster than any of my brothers.”

She smirked and put her hands on her hips.

“ _When_ I meet your mother, huh?”

“Well, yeah, I figured as much.” He shrugged nonchalantly and then paused and tilted his head at her. “Did you have a problem with that?”

Hell, no she didn’t.

Darcy beamed at him.

“No, no problem. In fact, “ she glanced over at Jane now bent over her precious doodad with an assortment of tools and then turned back to her newly minted soulmate, “let’s go get lunch and you can tell me all about how your mother already loves me.”

She beamed some more and held out her arm like a gentleman. Sam shook his head but chuckled and put his hand through the crook of her elbow while gesturing grandly with the other.

“Lead the way, good lady.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Thor too much.”

Darcy laughed and headed off to the elevator, Sam’s warm hand tucked into her elbow, and an arsenal of questions ready to get to know him. 

It wasn’t until they were inside the elevator and heading down to the ground floor that Darcy realized he’d never answered her first question.

“So, wait. What was really important to you before me and Jane came out?”

He shuffled his feet for a second before turning to face her. Darcy wanted to pout at the lack of contact as he pulled his hand away from her arm but then he rested his hands on her shoulders and bent to look into her face more closely.

“It’s only because we’re soulmates and I want us to get off on the right foot that I’m even considering telling you this; and you cannot, under any circumstances, share this information.”

“Okay…”

He paused and lowered his head for a second to take a deep breath before meeting her eyes once more.

“It wasn’t the intruder who broke Jane’s Science! thingamabob.”

“What?”

His hands squeezed her shoulders before he responded.

“It was me.”

“It was you?”

“The guy got the drop on me. It was the closest thing to throw and I… panicked.”

Her eyebrows came together in confusion.

“Why can’t I tell Jane?”

“Have you seen her angry? She’s kind of scary.”

Darcy stared at him for a couple of seconds.

And then she laughed

She laughed hysterically.

She laughed until she cried and couldn’t hold herself upright.

Sam turned out to be a perfectly solid and enjoyable form of support.

After a couple of minutes, Darcy leaned against him only chuckling now and patted his quite lovely abs.

“Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll protect you.” 


	15. Going the Distance (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On Your Left: Take Two-less destruction more sassin". AKA- Steve Rogers isn't the only one to troll strangers while running.

Darcy let out a grunt and forced herself to finish her last lap around Tony’s swanky indoor track while glaring at the far too attractive backside quickly moving farther away from her.

Sam Wilson may have been cute, Sam Wilson may have helped saved Captain America and Natasha’s lives, Sam Wilson may have been a good guy just like everyone said; but if the ass passed her one more time on the track with only a chuckle, he was going to die a painful and ignoble death before they even had a chance to be properly introduced.

Admittedly, Darcy had never been known for her physical prowess but this was just ridiculous.

A far too short time later she heard the tell-tale thudding of his feet coming up, that same damn chuckle she wouldn’t mind hearing in another situation, and then there he was moving past her peripheral vision.

This time Darcy forced in a lungful of air so she could yell at him.

“How many times are you going to do that exactly?”

Maybe it was karma, maybe she’d suddenly developed telekinetic powers, but all of a sudden one of his feet tripped on nothing and the dude went down. 

Hard.

By the time Darcy made it up to where he was sprawled he’d mostly caught his breath and stared up at her with far more awe than she felt appropriate for the situation. 

She was annoyed and sweaty. He’d been kicking her ass on the track. And it really wasn’t her best of comebacks or insults.

But there he lay, mouth agape, and heart eyes personified.

Did he hit his head when he fell?

Darcy stared down at him, hands on hips, waiting for some sort of response.

“Apparently just as many as it took.”

She dropped her stance to clasp her right hand around her left wrist where those very words marked her fair skin.

Sam Wilson, aka The Falcon, decorated military veteran, superhero, and heinously attractive individual was her soulmate.

Her breath caught and she blinked at him silently. Sam leisurely propped himself up on an elbow to grin up at her .

“You know, I’d heard you were kind of mouthy. So far, you’re not living up to expectations.”

And he snarked too? 

Darcy owed someone somewhere  a thank you present.

Mentally shaking herself, she let go of her wrist to flippantly wave her hand.

“And you are supposed to be a gentleman. You always troll random girls attempting to remain in shape?”

“Oh, I’d say you have plenty of shape.” He waggled his brows but when she didn’t answer he shrugged from where he still lay. “You’ve seen who I’ve been hanging out with.”

Darcy snorted.

“True, Steve is the king of trolls.”

Sam nodded and shifted into a seating position with a groan.

“That he is. Plus, it’s suddenly become rare for me to actually be able to outrun or outfight anyone in this place. I couldn’t pass up the chance when I had it.”

He raised his hands in a helpless gesture and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Tool.”

“Yeah, but your tool.”

And damn if that didn’t make a bit of a shiver run up her spine.

He held out a hand for her to help him up and she paused for a second before grabbing hold and yanking his considerable mass up.

Once he was standing though, he didn’t release her. 

Darcy looked down at their joined hands and then up at his still grinning face.

Yeah. She could get used to that.

She gave him a small smile and then tugged on his arm to start them off walking to the locker rooms.

“After a very long shower, you’re buying me ice cream to celebrate.”

He gave her another of his chuckles and she realized she had been right: his deep laugh was far more enjoyable when it wasn’t because he was showing her up.

“Weren’t you just supposedly running to stay in shape?”

“Exactly, young grasshopper.” Darcy swung their hands between them and smiled at him. “One needs balance in all things.” 


	16. Untitled Piece #1 (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy/Sam - the avengers don't know but we've been soulmates/best friends since college.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the tumblr of course.

Darcy looked at her phone: no messages.

With a sigh she leaned her head back against the elevator wall.

“Ugh. If I never see another would-be kidnapper again, it’ll be too soon.”

Jane hummed in agreement.

“Thank goodness for Tony Stark.”

Darcy snorted and glanced over at her boss.

“Now those are words I never expected to hear you utter.”

Jane grunted this time in response.

In truth, Darcy never expected to even meet Tony Stark. But then post Nightmare on Elves’ Street, Thor decided to introduce Jane and Darcy to his fellow Midgardian warriors. And now Tony was offering a safe haven because Thor was off world and Steve had gone and decided to topple a secret government agency; thereby leaking out hers and Jane’s secrets and names on some top-secret list. 

Darcy had always thought she was unimportant but here she’d made it into the Villain’s Burn Book of Murder and Mayhem.

Yay.

She checked her phone again out of habit.

Nothing.

The doors of the elevator finally opened and Darcy and Jane dragged themselves upright and out.

They were both going on thirty-six hours without more than a couple of cat-naps and even longer without a shower. Tony had taken one look at them on video chat and promised both. Literally.

Voices were coming from somewhere nearby, so the two women shuffled their way over.

Pepper Potts and Rhodey sat on the couch in disheveled suits probably having come from political meetings; Tony was at the bar fixing drinks for himself, Natasha, and Clint; and Steve “Cady Heron” Rogers was slouched down in a nearby chair.

Darcy was too tired do more than raise her eyebrows at the assortment.

“Ah, my intrepid travelers. Welcome.” Tony raised a bottle of what was probably heinously expensive alcohol. “Come see me for spiritual sustenance or we’ve got Wilson on food patrol.”

“Who?”

Before anyone could answer Darcy’s question someone else came into the room with a tray of food piled high. When he set it down on a nearby table and revealed his face, Darcy let out a gasp drawing everyone’s attention to her. 

“D?”

She stood there flummoxed and Sam suddenly rushed forward to pull her into a bear hug.

“Damn, it’s good to see you, D.”

Darcy sank into the familiar feel of him for a minute before she remembered her righteous and very well-deserved anger and pushed at him until he let her go and she could poke him in the chest.

“Don’t you ‘D’ me, Samuel Francis Wilson! What the hell are you doing here?!”

He knew better than to try and reach for her again and instead sent a guilty look over at Steve Rogers who was now watching them with interest along with everyone else in the room.

“Seriously? This is why you’ve been ducking my calls? Because you hitched your caboose to the Captain America crazy train?”

Jane let out a sigh and wandered over to a couch while the younger woman ignored her and continued to glare at the hero in front of her who was now avoiding eye contact.

“I wasn’t ducking your calls exactly.”

“Then what were you doing?”

He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck and took a deep breath before looking at her with his head tucked down.

“My phone might have been taken and I didn’t exactly have a whole lot of free time over the last couple of days.”

“Taken? No time? You mean you’ve been teamed up with these maniacs for days and didn’t tell me?!”

A laugh came from the bar.

“How could you miss it? He was on TV getting arrested with Cap.”

Darcy glared at Tony and gestured towards Steve.

“I was in the middle of trying to not be kidnapped in the aftermath of that guy getting arrested.”

“Kidnapped?” Sam interrupted but Darcy ignored him.

“Plus, I’m not in the habit of watching my childhood hero/celebrity crush get arrested!” She turned back to poke Sam in the chest some more. “Not to mention, my soulmate usually doesn’t go off doing stupidly heroic things without telling me, let alone without calling, texting, or emailing me for an entire week!”

“You had a crush on Cap growing up? And Wilson’s your soulmate? Classic!”

Sam glared at Tony and without looking grabbed Darcy’s hand, which was still poking him in the chest, holding on despite her trying to pull it back.

“Not helping, Stark.”

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to help.”

“Tony,” Pepper called from across the room.

The still-gleeful inventor raised his hands in surrender as he went back to mixing drinks with a snicker.

Sam ignored everyone else as he pulled Darcy back in for a hug. She attempted to fight for a while but finally just let him hug her as she stood there stiffly; trying to resist hugging back because he’d always been ridiculously comfortable and she was way too tired for any of what was happening.

“So, wait, when did you two find out you were soulmates?”

“About eight years ago,” Sam answered.

He put one hand in Darcy’s hair dragging his nails along her scalp while he used the other hand to keep her in place and rub circles into her back just as she liked. With a sigh she finally relaxed against him and turned to face Pepper who had asked the earlier question.

“I was thinking about doing ROTC for a scholarship but wanted to see how badly it would suck. So I went to the closest military base and talked to the first soldier I could find.”

Clint snorted into his drink.

“Sounds about right.”

Darcy shrugged and sank further into Sam who relaxed and just held onto her.

After a moment, he murmured in her hair.

“You okay?”

She shrugged again and he leaned back to look at her face.

“Seriously. What’s this about kidnappings?”

She let out a snort.

“What’s this about going back into a war-zone and not warning me?”

He winced.

“I’m sorry, Darce. It’s been a shitty week.”

Sam brought his hands up to cup her jaw and she let out a quiet harrumph.

“You’re telling me.” She raised her hands to cover his with her own and gave him a small, tired smile. “We’re talking about this later. Right now I need a shower and sleep.”

He nodded and stepped back to talk to everyone else who was still politely pretending not to watch; well, except for Tony, he blatantly stared.

“We’ll see you all later.”

Darcy looked over to see Jane already asleep and drooling on the couch.

“Can someone make sure she actually makes it to a bed at some point?”

Pepper gave her a kind smile.

“Don’t worry, Darcy. We’ll take care of her.”

Sam grabbed her hand and started to lead her back towards the elevator.

“Come on, I’ll get you one of my shirts to wear and let you fall asleep on top of me.”

Darcy hummed and leaned into his side.

“Good. You always made the best pillow.” 


	17. Untitled Piece #2 (Darcy/Clint/Natasha)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy isn't the only one surprised that Natasha is her soulmate. But Natasha is only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the tumblr. Soulmate prompt: Well those zoo passes are unnecessary now. Darcy/Natasha/Clint .
> 
> I go through various phases of how I see Natasha and when I wrote this she was very ace.

With a yawn and a stretch, Darcy shuffled into the communal kitchen in time to see the Black Widow flipping a crepe in a pan with one hand while scrolling through her phone with her other.

Darcy had been living in the tower for a couple of months and had met most of the other Avengers and their somewhat normal alter egos by that point. Well, almost all, minus Clint Barton who seemed to never be there despite the fact that he lived there and Natasha who’d been off doing secret things in secret locations. Either way, she’d expected to become inured to various enhanced abilities and crazy talents her new neighbors possessed. But nope.

And maybe it was the very small amount of sleep she’d just gotten or the lack of previous encounters in which to become used to Natasha’s badassness, but Darcy was certainly impressed right then.

“That was amazing! You have to teach me how to do that.”

The other woman’s eyes shot to Darcy, who froze in her tracks in front of the refrigerator. Without looking away, Natasha moved the pan to the other side of the stove and turned off her burner without a single pause or misstep.

Damn that woman had some coordination.

“I never thought those words would reference my cooking skills.”

Darcy swallowed and blinked rapidly at her former assassin-spy, new crepe-master soulmate.

“Oh, wow. So, you and I?”

She raised a hand to point back and forth between them.

“It seems so.”

Darcy cocked her head to the side and looked at Natasha perplexed.

“Huh.”

Natasha, to her credit, took it all in stride and merely raised a brow.

“Care to expand on that?”

“I just, uh, I thought you had like a weird…” Darcy paused and made a gesture with her hands which even she didn’t understand, “ _thing_ with Clint. Won’t this make it weird…er?”

Natasha smirked and walked towards Darcy while pulling up her sleeve. When she stood a couple feet away, she held up a wrist.

 **‘Don’t make me shoot you, kid’** stood out in stark contrast with the woman’s fair skin.

Now, Darcy had been around long enough to hear the stories. And she’d moved in just in time for one of Barton’s crazier exes to try and storm the fortress to exact her revenge/take him back like the pretty, pretty princess he was (Darcy still wasn’t quite sure what the endgame had been).But this was a whole new plot twist she would never have expected and she held up a hand and then lowered it before she asked her next question.

“So wait, how is it he’s your soulmate but goes and dates other women and always screws things up?”

The spy’s lips twitched as she lowered her arm and pulled her sleeve back down.

“We are soulmates, yes, but not sexually involved. Clint looks elsewhere for that. Usually with disastrous results that I help him clean up.”

Darcy snorted and leaned against the fridge.

“No arguments on that front. I saw you take out the crazy ex my first week here. I’d love for you to teach me that ‘thighs of death’ move, by the way.”

Natasha tilted her head and looked at Darcy, who figured she was being examined for her possible chances at accomplishing that move; which were slim to none. Having seen the footage repeatedly, Darcy knew that her new soulmate was capable of acrobatics that she’d never imagined. 

And didn’t that bring up a whole new batch of questions.

“Now, I’m always nosy, but I’d probably be far too terrified to ask you this if you weren’t my soulmate.” After a beat she continued. “How are you and Clint not knocking tactical boots on the regular?”

Natasha lifted a shoulder minutely. 

“Clint, as you know, is fully invested in _more_ , but I’m not.”

Darcy’s brows furrowed and she stood a bit straighter. 

“Seriously? I mean, you both are way hot, and not that hotness precludes _you know_ , but–”

“I’m not interested in sex.”

“As in at the moment or like ever?”

Natasha rested a hand on the counter as she watched Darcy closesly for her reaction.

“This is definitely more of a permanent situation.”

Darcy let out a breath and sagged back down into her previous lean against the refrigerator. 

“Phew! I mean, not that you aren’t _amazing_ , but I don’t think I could survive you.”

Natasha chuckled and went back to the stove with a soft smile.

“I don’t think many could.”

She transferred her crepe to a plate and began to add various toppings before folding it and eating it with her hands. 

Darcy wasn’t sure how she knew, but Natasha’s unconcern seemed forced. Darcy, however, wasn’t surprised as her new soulmate had probably been used to playing many things close to the chest for years; and who was she to question that?

Instead she stayed where she was and watched silently; letting the cold of the refrigerator door give her a sensation other than panic or complete befuddlement. 

The Black Widow was her soulmate. No, Natasha Romanoff was her soulmate. Natasha was also soulmates with Clint Barton. Natasha wasn’t interested in sex with either Clint or Darcy.

“Serious question.”

By this point Natasha had finished eating and set her dishes in the sink before glancing back at Darcy.

“Yes?”

“Physical touch is totally my love language and I think you’d give really good cuddles. Do you think you’d be okay with that?”

Natasha rested a hip against the counter and gave Darcy a fond smile.

“I have been known to be.”

Darcy squealed and threw herself at the former assassin for a hug. If the hug was anything to go by, Natasha would definitely be a fantastic cuddler.

“PERFECT! I’m now one half closer to my soulmate trifecta!”

The redhead leaned back and gave Darcy a questioning look.

“Trifecta?”

“I have a second soulmate too.”

Darcy stepped back and pulled the neck of her shirt down her arm as she twisted to show Natasha the words on her right shoulder blade.

She felt a small puff of air hit her skin that must have been a laugh coming from the other woman.

“Come. Let’s go have the obligatory meeting of my soulmates.”

“Okay, there wasn’t much of a transition there. I thought we’d at least go on a couple of dates before I met the family.” 

She turned and pulled her shirt back into place in time to see Natasha’s brows come together.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“You sure? I mean, I’m not trying to put any pressure on you, but you’re kind of my first soulmate and this is kind of a big deal for me.”

Natasha paused and pursed her lips thinking for a moment before deciding on something and giving a small nod. 

“I leave for a mission in just over an hour. No one but Clint knows about it. You two can talk and he’ll keep you in the loop, among other things.”

Darcy let out a hum of understanding.

“Oh! Okay, I can deal with that. As long as you promise to teach me how to make crepes when you get back.”

Natasha nodded immediately, lips twitching, and Darcy went in for another hug. 

Woman gave good hugs.

But after only a couple of moments, Natasha straightened and patted Darcy on the back.

“Bonding later. There’s only so much time for me to take you down and introduce you and Clint.”

Darcy leaned back and whined.

“Can I at least brush my teeth first?”

With a smirk Natasha shook her head and stepped away.

“It won’t make a difference?”

“What? Why?”

But the redhead had already started walking out the door and Darcy hurried to catch up.

It didn’t seem right to pester Natasha with too many questions when she was probably mentally gearing up for her mission; or more, it didn’t seem productive as Darcy knew the other woman would only answer if she wanted to. So, Darcy followed along silently praising whatever gods were responsible for her decision to wear somewhat presentable pajamas and sports bra to bed the night before.

It wasn’t until a couple of floors and several twists and turns later that Natasha tilted her head and smiled out the corner of her mouth at Darcy.

“This actually works better.”

“What does?”

“Clint has been coming up with more and more outlandish ways to try and ask you out.”

“Say what?” Darcy’s steps stuttered but she caught herself and hurried to catch up again. “But we’ve _never_  talked!”

“I know.” Natasha turned her head to give a blatant eye roll. “But he’s heard stories and seen you chew out Tony and the lab grunts, so he’s smitten already. And he’s so adorable yet annoying with his little crush.”

“You…approve then?” Darcy asked hesitantly.

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Darcy tried to parse that whole soulmate-approved dating option out and the fact that a superhero who she’d never actually met had a thing for her but she got sidetracked by another idea.

“Wait, does Clint have a second soulmate too?”

“Why don’t you ask him that yourself?”

They turned a final corner and walked onto the archery range where Darcy suddenly came face to face, well face to bicep, with Clint Barton. She tilted her head back to see him conversing with Natasha through facial ticks and brow quirks.

With a sigh Natasha finally decided to use her words, which Darcy was grateful for.

“She’s my other soulmate and I think you two should talk.”

Clint’s brows raised and then he looked down at Darcy with a slightly suspicious but hopeful smile.

Hello scruff, dimples, and blue eyes.

Darcy’s brain shorted out.

But her mouth didn’t.

“Do you have a second soulmate you’re looking for? Because that would give you the excuse of desperation rather than just spectacularly bad taste in women.”

She saw him stiffen and had to fight to keep her palm from connecting with her forehead. Forecfully.

Natasha’s quiet snort didn’t do anything to alleviate Darcy’s sudden hope for the villain du jour to make an appearance or Stark to blow something up or for Thor to break something and need her help or _anything_ at all to give her an excuse to slink away and regret her life choices.

But then Clint threw his head back and laughed.

Darcy directed a frantic look at  Natasha but the other woman merely gave her a grin in return that was more disconcerting given its intensity, turned, and left without another word.

What the hell?

Darcy was half tempted to run after her but figured she’d only be in the way as Natasha was probably off to change into her stealthy catsuit or something. Plus, Clint was finally winding down on his outburst and curiosity got the best of her.

She just hoped it didn’t come to bit her in the ass.

So, she took a small step away from the possibly insane hero and waited for his laughter to finally subside.

He ran a hand through his hair making it stick up in odd tufts that she stared at distractedly when he finally spoke.

“Well, those zoo passes are unnecessary now.”

Darcy’s eyes widened and her hand flew up halfway towards her shoulder before she froze and just stared at Clint.

He smiled broadly at her put his hands on his hips making his shirt stretch delightfully across his chest.

“Crazy, huh?” 

Darcy shook her head to focus.

Not only was Natasha Romanoff her new awesome bestie soulmate but so was this hunk of a man. The latter of which was definitely not looking at her in a platonic way. And she was all for that.

He chuckled as she continued to stare at him silently and that finally broke her out of her thoughts.

His easy acceptance on top of Natasha’s earlier nonchalance made Darcy want to be one of the cool kids and not freak out. 

So she shrugged and cocked a hip as she grinned right back at him.

“I don’t think it’s too crazy. I’ve always liked the zoo.” 

 He raised a brow and held out an arm for her. 

 “Well then, shall we?” 

Darcy nodded and put her hand into the crook of his elbow, pretending not to notice his blatant flexing or the fact that she was still in flannel pajamas. 

 “We shall.” 

 This was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm very much not ace, let me know if any of this seems fake or forced to you guys. I viewed Natasha as reserved and slow to trust, hence why she wouldn't have a lot of physical contact with others, but Darcy is her own deal. Because Darcy is immediately trusting and trustworthy, so I figured it was easier for Natasha to open up quickly. So, she's willing to hug and open up to Darcy, but emotions require time and she has a job to do, so she shoves Darcy at the one person she can trust to explain things if need be. It's just perfect that their soulmarks suddenly made so much sense.


	18. The Subtle Defenestrator (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy might have come to expect ridiculous things to happen; it's a byproduct of hanging out with hero types. She wasn't quite expecting a nerd of a soulmate out of it, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From le tumblr. Prompt: How about Darcy/Bucky - Soulmate AU

“That’s it, Jane. You’re no longer allowed to pick where we go for lunch.”

Darcy ducked underneath a table of a nearby circular booth and adjusted her grip on her cell phone.

“How was I supposed to know there was going to be an attack? There’s no way you can scientifically prove it was because I picked.”

“All I gotta say is that at no time when we’ve gone out and I or someone else have chosen the restaurant, have I ever been in mortal danger.”

Jane paused.

“It’s not every time…”

Darcy rolled her eyes as she plopped down to wait. She’d already been scrabbling and crawling around on the floor, so germs and dirt were kind of a moot point by then.

“Three times ago the fryer exploded and the restaurant nearly made us extra crispy. Two times ago it was the cafe where Spiderman and Doc Ock decided to have their little tête-à-tête . Last time the freaking maitre d was a Hydra plant. And now this?”

Though she wasn’t sure if Jane could actually see her, Darcy gestured at the general mayhem around her in what had been the best hole-in-the wall diner within a five block radius from the tower.

She’d only been one bite into her heavenly mozzarella sticks when she heard the far-too-familiar sound of jack-booted thugs marching in and a warning gunshot. 

Then everything went pear-shaped in a handbasket. 

She’d shoved Jane under the table and was about to follow when she saw that her bag with Tasee McGee had been thrown across the room when her chair had toppled as other patrons fled. That taser had gotten her through some sketchier times,so she wasn’t about to let it disappear when thugs were afoot, and had crawled over. But then said thugs had come streaming in and she couldn’t get back to Jane without drawing attention, so she hid where she could and called Jane to make sure she was still safely under her table until they figured out just what the bad guys wanted.

Jane couldn’t always be trusted to not try to get involved.

“Oh good.”

Darcy let out a groan.

Last time she’d heard that comment from Jane in a similar situation it was when the scientist had figured out how to detach Doc Ock’s creepy metal tentacles and had jumped into the fray.

Both Spiderman and Jane had gotten Darcy’s updated and revised lecture on self-preservation that day.

Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What?”

“I just got a text. Tony’s sending over the big guns.”

With a sigh of relief Darcy’s shoulders relaxed.

“Who does he qualify as the big guns?”

“I didn’t ask. No matter who’s around, Thor will show up. And if it goes on long enough, Tony will too. And then it’s just a matter of time before the whole gang is here.”

Darcy snorted.

“True. Who knew superheroes had such FOMO?”

Darcy heard the front doors opening and tried to look out over the table of the booth she’d taken up residence in. But then there was shouting and gunfire ringing out and she prayed it was just a ricochet that had put a serious hole in the vinyl booth behind her. Apparently those big guns must have arrived. And there was no way she was going to stay in ricochet alley.

She ducked back down and tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear, before twisting herself around to crawl out of the booth head first. But as soon as she popped her head out, she came face to knee with tactical pants. 

Darcy jumped, dropping the phone, and looked up to find the barrel of a serious gun greeting her.

Maybe ricochet alley hadn’t been so bad.

Why hadn’t she thought to pull Tasee McGee out before she began to crawl from safety?

Out of nowhere a metal hand grabbed the dude by the collar and sent him flying ten feet into and through the diner window and then another fifteen beyond that.

Darcy looked up to see Bucky Barnes: her rescuer. He had a smug smile as he looked at his handiwork and she got the feeling he enjoyed reenacting scenes from Robocop. She looked away from his face to examine his metal arm. She’d seen pictures of it, but never this close before. Who knew metal could have that much muscle definition?

Barnes definitely qualified as the big guns.

Somewhere nearby another window shattered and she snorted and shook her head.

Big guns or not, this was going to be a bitch of an incident report to write up.

Darcy pulled herself into a squatting position and glanced up at Barnes glibly.

“While I appreciate the showmanship, I am not doing the paperwork that goes with bad guys being thrown through windows.”

His smile faltered and his body tensed as his gaze shot down to where she sat.

Darcy wasn’t sure what she’d said, but as he stared at her and she internally freaked out, some other baddie with a serious death wish came up and sucker punched Barnes in the face.

That snapped him out of whatever not-quite-murderous-not-quite-smoulder stare he’d had going and the fight was back on.

As tango of good vs.evil raged on, Darcy snagged her phone from the floor and scooched back under the table of the booth. If Barnes was going to be drawing fire, it wasn’t ricochets she needed to worry about. So she hunkered and looked at her phone to see she had five missed calls and three texts from Jane. 

She chose to just answer the most recent text and not give away her position any other enterprising villains by calling Jane back.

**YOU OKAY?**

_Yeah, I’m good._

**Sure?**

_Yep. Those big guns are here, so we should probably wait it out._

**Not a bad idea. Was that Barnes I just saw saving you?**

_Surreal to say the least._

**You confess your undying love for him yet?**

_I don’t have any undying love for him._

**Sure**.

_So I had a crush on him in history class in high school. Who didn’t?_

**Uh huh. And that’s why I catch you sneaking out to watch his sparring sessions from the observation room.**

_We agreed never to speak of that._

**I don’t know. I think it might be better if we told him. Now that you’ve met and all. Might help you focus on your work more.**

_Jane. I swear by all that is holy and Thor. You tell him that and I will tell Thor every single hiding spot you have for your snacks. Your candy stash will never be safe again._

**You wouldn’t.**

_Not even the ones hidden in the false bottom of your spectrometer stand will be safe._

There was a pause before the next message came in.

**We have an understanding.**

_Good._

**Was that a repulsor blast I heard.**

_Yeah, Tony just pulled up and I think I saw mew-mew fly by the window a second ago._

Darcy wasn’t surprised when she didn’t hear from Jane for a couple minutes. Thor always had a habit of coming in and dramatically checking that she was all right. It usually involved tongues. Which, you know, go Jane.

**Thor said most of the fighting is over and it’s all confined to the street outside. He’s taking me back to the tower. You want to come with?**

_Nah, I figure I’ll use this as an excuse to actually meet the Shit-stirrers Three and say thanks and all._

**Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll send Thor back.**

_Will do. Fly safe. Hold on to some muscles for me._

**Always.**

Thor was right about the fight. It was limited to outside and seemed to be quieting down as fewer and fewer goons were left conscious or breathing. Darcy figured she’d wait for the all clear before she left her hiding spot, though. Last time she hadn’t, she’d gotten an impromptu hair cut from a stray repulsor blast.

It was only a couple minutes later that she heard the crunch of glass and the familiar voice one Captain America call out.

“It’s all clear. You can come out now, Ms. Lewis.”

Darcy clambered out from under the table to talk to the golden boy who’d apparently come to collect her. He seemed to be watching her intently and Darcy wondered if he’d seen her strange interaction with Barnes earlier. She’d have to try and play it cool; see if she could get him to explain what she’d said that had freaked Bucky “Hot Arms” Barnes out in the middle of a fight.

She dusted off her clothes and straightened her bag as she walked over to the shattered window where he stood.

“Yo, Cap, it’s Darcy. Ms. Lewis just reminds me of awkward encounters with my high school guidance counselor.”

He grinned and held out a hand.

“Then it’s just Steve.”

Darcy shook his hand; so far so good.

“I can handle that.”

But she didn’t get any chance to pump him for information. Instead, Steve continued to watch her as Wilson and Barnes walked up. The first still clearly buzzing with adrenaline. Barnes, in contrast, was the epitome of calm. He continued to stare at Darcy without a word, but there was a slight twist to his lips that she was qualifying as a smile, so she figured she’d break the ice and dive in. 

Pun intended.

“Thanks for the save, back there Barnes. And, seriously, A+ for effort. I know how hard it is to even crack tempered glass like that, let alone toss a guy through it.”

Sam groaned.

“Wait, he tossed another guy through a window?!” He threw his hands into the air and glared at Bucky. “I knew you were aiming for the window with that despot last week! And Hill made ME fill out the incident report!”

Darcy glanced between the two and the now very watchful Steve.

“Uh, did I miss something?”

Barnes’s smile grew and he tilted his head as he continued to watch Darcy.

“I may have developed an interest in defenestration because of you.”

Darcy let out an odd mix of a hiccup and snort as she stared at Barnes’ most definitely smug face. She put one hand to her mouth hoping to keep out any more sounds reminiscent of Emma Thompson in Sense and Sensibility. Her other hand clapped down on the outside of her right thigh where those very words trailed down to her knee.

Bucky Barnes was her soulmate.

Hoo boy.

Darcy lowered the one hand from her mouth and and responded a bit dazedly.

“I might have won a spelling bee because of you.”

Steve quickly caught on and guffawed as he slapped his friend on the on the back

“Congrats, Buck! It’s about time.”

Bucky continued to smile at Darcy, waiting for her process.

Her life was unreal. She hung out with heroes and gods. She defeated evil and saved the world. And now Bucky Barnes was her soulmate; and if his grin was anything to go by, he _really_ liked the idea. 

Darcy wouldn’t have it any other way.

She let out a laugh and launched herself at Bucky for a hug.

He was a very good hugger.

Sam looked on confused.

“Now I’m missing something.”

Steve didn’t say anything and Bucky just continued to hold onto her, so Darcy figured it was up to her to explain. She pulled back a little and tilted her head towards Bucky.

“This defenestrator is my soulmate.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t for Sam let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I can  _never_ catch a break. First Steve, then this fossil, and now you? How many asses am I gonna have to pull out of the fire?”

Darcy hummed indignantly and looked to Steve and then Bucky, who was still holding on to her. But they both just grinned, not denying Sam’s accusation.

And then she thought about the day she’d had.

Yeah, Wilson probably had a point.

Sam scrubbed his hands over his face but then paused and dropped them as he looked at Darcy with a raised brow.

“Wait, did you actually win a spelling bee because of defene-whatever that was?”

Darcy moved to step back but Bucky still didn’t let go of her, so she turned and left one arm wrapped around his waist as she grinned proudly at Sam.

“Yep! My teacher also liked to throw out random ones like erinaceous and nudiustertian.“

“What do those even mean?”

Bucky chuckled.

“Respectively, something looking like a hedgehog and the day before yesterday.”

Sam’s gaze shot over to Bucky surprised.

“How do you even know that?”

Steve snorted and walked away, calling back over his shoulder.

“I told you he was always a nerd.”

Darcy grinned up at Bucky.

“Man after my own heart.”

Sam let out another sigh and grumbled to himself as he followed after Steve.

“Definitely not a good combination.”

Darcy rolled her eyes bumped her hip against Bucky’s.

“What say you we go see if the cook is willing to give me any food to go and you talk nerdy to me?”

Bucky grinned and swept a grand gesture to the kitchen door.

“After you.”

Darcy started to move but paused and narrowed her eyes at Bucky.

“Just how many people have you thrown through windows?“

Sam shouted from across the room.

“Way too damn many” 

 


	19. Untitled Piece #3 (Darcy & Phil, Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret Agent Men stealing your boss' equipment and research is one thing. Them returning it is another. Darcy intends to enjoy the experience and winds up with more than she bargained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From me tumblr: prompt if you're up for it: darcy/phil, their soulmarks are both lyrics from the song secret agent man.
> 
> I no longer seem capable of sailing on the good Darcy/Coulson ship. So, they must have witty banter and sassy repartee to make up for it. And a little Clint thrown in. Because I'm always trash for Clint Barton.

Darcy stood in the car dealership come lab with her head tilted three inches to the right and the inside of her lower lip firmly gripped between her teeth to keep her lecherous smile at bay.

She tilted her head to the other side  and mumbled to herself.

“I must have done something very good in my youth or early childhood for this.”

After Thor had pulled a Rainbow Brite, things had definitely slowed down around Puente Antiguo. But the tool of a big brother SHIELD had decided to scamper off and figured they’d get the scientists Foster and Selvig set up with equipment and tools out the wazoo. It was probably just in hopes that the Science! duo would put out later on, scientifically speaking of course, but Darcy wasn’t about to argue with it when she got this kind of view.

One of the not-so-jack-booted thugs had decided all the fetching and going up and down on ladders to hook up and run cables took too long. So, now he hung upside down, half in half out of the ceiling twisting this way and that to get things set up. And as he worked, his already revealing black t-shirt had begun riding up with the force of gravity to reveal a quite impressive six pack.

Eventually Darcy’s perusal made it to his face, which was just as good as the rest of the display.

But as she stared he caught her watching and gave her a wink before reaching for another cable.

Darcy paused for a minute to decide if she felt embarrassed over this.

On the one hand, being caught scoping out some very fine, very government owned man was not the most professional. But when had she ever been professional? And if the now very flexed abs and biceps were anything to go by, Mr. Property of the United States of Absolutely Scrumptious was in full support of her scoping.

So, with a shrug Darcy went back to biting the inside of her lip. She figured keeping her not-so-work-appropriate thoughts from being verbalized totally put a tick in her ‘qualified as a professional adult’ column.

“What the hell is he doing?” she muttered after another couple minutes.

Hottie McDeathWish had started to move, looking like he was doing an upside down sit-up, but then suddenly flung himself back, making Darcy gasp. Dude must have been a gymnast or something, though, because he flipped backwards out of the ceiling, completing a full rotation, before landing on the ground with a flourish. He stood and fixed his shirt,sending another wink in her direction.

Darcy grinned.

“ _Damn_.”

A sigh came from her right and Darcy turned to see Mr. Bossy Pants “Too Good for Feelings or Talking to the Minions” Coulson at her right.

But he showed a surprising amount of eyebrow emotion when he turned to Darcy. It seemed he was finally willing to acknowledge her presence.

“Odds are he won’t live to see tomorrow.”

Darcy inhaled a massive amount of air and accidentally choked on it. She bent over coughing and praying to herself that what he’d said was just a coincidence and not the words permanently wrapped around her left ankle.

After another round of coughing, Darcy stood up and wiped her streaming eyes. She took a deep breath with only minimal coughs and wheezes this time and turned back to Agent Coulson.

“Secret Agent Man,” she said quietly with a small nod.

The eyebrow emotion increased a hundredfold.

Shit.

“I’m hoping you just happen to have interest in classic oldies music, Ms. Lewis. And that this is just a coincidence.”

She lifted one shoulder and grimaced.

“I’d love that. If my left ankle didn’t disagree with you.”

All eyebrow activity seemed to cease functioning as any and all human expression was wiped from Coulson’s face.

Well.

That was one way to react to meeting your soulmate.

He didn’t seem inclined to do much other than silently stare at her, so Darcy figured she’d get her main worry out of the way.

“So, uh, no offense, but you weren’t hoping for this to be…romantic or anything, were you?”

Coulson looked like his face went through a hard reboot, but after a couple seconds his eyes blinked rapidly and shook his head a couple times.

“Certainly not, Ms. Lewis.”

Darcy’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. You are so not my type.”

One eyebrow twitched.

“I take it you mean I’m not younger, foolhardy, and prone to idiotic displays of gymnastic talent?”

Darcy snorted.

“There’s that. And the fact that I’m really just not into bossy suit types who ignore me for three weeks.”

Coulson’s other eyebrow twitched.

“Touche.”

They both turned to silently watch the rest of the suits and jack-booted thugs milling around.

“So what exactly does this mean?”

Coulson let out a long breath and glanced at her.

“Paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork.”

“Seriously? As a big secret government agency you don’t feel inclined to keep this, you know, secret?”

“As preferable as that might be, it’ll be better in the long run if this goes on record.”

“For you or me?”

“I’m not entirely sure.”

“Well, I guess you get points for honesty.”

Coulson’s lips twitched now. Darcy wondered if he ever gave a full expression or just constantly looked like one small part of his face was being minutely pulled by an invisible string. This was something she’d definitely have to look into.

But he turned to the rest of the group before she could test anything out.

“Barton!” he called.

Darcy saw Hottie McDeathWish stand straight and turn quickly.

Oooh. So he had a name.

“Yes, sir!”

“Take Ms. Lewis back to base and keep her from getting into trouble until I can get there.”

Hottie, now known as Barton, gave her a grin.

“It’d be my pleasure, sir!”

Darcy smiled back before turning to Coulson.

“Aw, Coulson. You trying to play matchmaker?”

She was rewarded with an aborted eye roll.

“Barton happens to be the only agent I trust with keeping you from causing problems. Don’t think I haven’t read your reports or am ignorant to the fact that it was you who hacked the DMV for Thor.”

Darcy shrugged.

“You win some you lose some.” She saw Barton making his way towards her. “And I definitely am winning this one.”

Coulson sighed again.

“Do please try to keep your hands off my agents. I am attempting to keep this SHIELD extraction working smoothly and professionally.”

She grinned.

“You should know I don’t take well to male authority figures telling me not to do something.”

Barton (she really needed to get a first name), sidled up and gave her smirk. Okay, yeah. Hottie definitely could be his first name.

“Funny, I was just telling Coulson the same thing yesterday.”

Coulson closed his eyes for a second before giving his agent a firm glare.

“Barton, get her out of here and don’t make me regret this.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Barton, hereby to be known as Hottie once more until further notice, started making his way to the door. Darcy followed after him, tilting her head to enjoy the view from behind this time.

“Remember what I asked, Ms. Lewis.”

Darcy turned around to smile wickedly at Coulson as she walked backwards.

“No promises!”


	20. Color Me Mine (Darcy/Angel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where you don't see color, Darcy didn't expect a man in an all-black leather suit to suddenly bring new hues to her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been hanging around a tumblr prompt for the longest time. I had a hard time making my brain cooperate with the whole not being able to see colors things and then suddenly seeing them. So, now I have all these ideas about a world where only some of the population sees color.

“Grandpa, what color are these?”

Darcy held up a shirt and sweater, waiting for him to answer.

Her mom always told her she should ask someone who could see color to double check her outfits before she got dressed. Apparently, one day she’d paired a green shirt with pink pants and her mom didn’t want her to ‘walk around looking like a mascara tube’ too much. Darcy didn’t see why it was a big deal; she was five and her neighbor said it was cute.

But at that moment her grandpa chuckled and shrugged.

“I don’t know, baby girl.”

Her face screwed up and she lowered the clothing.

“What do you mean?”

He came over and sat down on the bed, next to where she had haphazardly pulled out all her clothes.

“Your grandma sees color. Not me.”

“But you see color once you meet your soulmate.”

He rested his elbows on his knees and nodded.

“That you do.”

She sat for a moment face still contorted in confusion.

“But aren’t you and grandma soulmates?”

He smiled at her and slowly shook his head.

“No, we’re not. Your grandma’s soulmate was a little boy named Willard who died of polio, not much older than you.”

Darcy stared at him for a couple minutes. She knew what death was; her cat had died earlier that year. Mom said he was sleeping and wouldn't wake up. But how could a little boy her age die? How could her grandma no longer have a soulmate? Did that mean her grandpa’s soulmate was someone else?

Her grandpa chuckled again and gently rested a hand on top of her head like he usually did when she got caught up on too many questions.

“Let’s try and keep this from spinning too much, huh?”

She giggled up at his usual joke, but then thought of a new one.

“But what if you never see color, grandpa?”

His smile grew and he leaned closer as though to whisper a secret.

“Doesn’t matter. Your grandma has always been the brightest spot of my life, in color or not.”

 

* * *

 

 

She kept those words with her for years. As she started school, and still didn’t see color. As she went through middle school and high school, and didn’t see color. As she made it through college, plus a couple near-death experiences, and still didn’t see color.

But right at that moment, Darcy would have killed for the ability to see some sort of shade or hue.

Not because of any romantic or emotional longing, but because it would make her job so much easier.

Ever since Thor had brought technicolor and rainbows to Jane’s world, literally, her boss had decided to switch to color-coded notes for easier frantic middle-of-the-night-genius-induced scrambling. Which, you know wouldn’t have been a big deal if her favorite pens had labels on them. And the only damn store Darcy could track them down to hadn’t mixed two colors together, resulting in a blend of shades she couldn’t tell between. And if the one employee hadn’t been a total pretentious toolbag the last time she’d been there making her never want to ask him for help again.

How was Darcy going to tell if she’d really picked aquamarine or it was just the teal form the box above?

With a sigh she grabbed both pens and went to the counter.

After the most condescending business interaction ever (and she’d rubbed shoulders with politicians and billionaires alike), Darcy walked out onto the street with a sigh, once again thinking about her grandpa’s words.

Admittedly, the words hadn’t helped much when her brother Dylan had always rubbed it in her face that he'd found his soulmate and could see colors before her. It been far more effective to remind her jerk of a sibling that he’d started crying when he met his soulmate because he thought something was wrong; not exactly cool when you’re twelve.

But Darcy still had so many questions, and she wished she had her grandpa’s hand to steady her head again.

Just what the heck was cerulean? Would she one day not have to stick to solid-colored clothing that was less risky of clashing? What even was clashing? Would books by color-seeing authors suddenly become more interesting? Was puce really as ugly as it sounded? Was mauve as boring as _it_ sounded?

Screams suddenly broke out from the end of the block, followed by the sound of breaking glass and a Hulk roar.

Great.

With another sigh, she shoved the bag of pens in her purse and ducked into an alleyway. Sure enough, within a couple of minutes, frantic, panicky pedestrians began streaming past. This time they were chased by what looked like squid-like flying robots. At least the baddies were taking inspiration from fun kids movies and not nature. The robot ferns and trees were still just weird. And she'd finally gotten over dreaming about being chased by animatronic Redwoods.

Darcy caught the sound of Tony’s repulsors blasting and tucked her head out to see him whiz by. But he was soon back, taking out demented robots in the middle of the street. When a very toasty robot with a still steaming hole in the middle of it nearly hit her, she stuck her hand out of the alley to flip her technical landlord off. He always deserved it.

Within seconds her phone started blaring Tony’s ringtone.

“You trying to hit me, foil boy?”

“So that was you I saw rudely waving down there. Why you hiding in back alleys, Lewis? Not that I’m judging what you get up to at oh, three in the afternoon, but really.”

His sentences were punctuated with further blasts and robots crashing down onto the street.

“I was running errands, but apparently I won’t get to go to the bakery as well, because you guys couldn’t keep this a block north, could you?”

He snickered but then let out a curse and she heard him firing rapidly.

“Tell you what, you get your ass back to the tower in one piece while I hold these guys off at the end of the street, and I’ll let you buy me a Danish from the bakery tomorrow.”

She snorted, but figured it was better than hiding in the alley for the rest of the afternoon.

“You’re buying, Stark.”

“Always. And, Lewis?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

She paused, not sure what to say, but he kept talking and she could hear his smirk through the phone.

“The X-Men came to this little party and they’re almost just as bad as demented squidbots.”

With an eye roll, she hung up and tucked her phone back in her pocket. She peeked around the corner, waiting until it looked like Tony was keeping all the non-sea-dwelling electrical thingies occupied. After she took one last steadying breath, she scampered down the street, ducking behind doorways and trashcans when she could.

But when she was almost to the end of the block, she caught sight of the Hulk up the other street, swatting and smacking down every robot he could as various X-Men took out the still-functioning robots that gave up attacking his legs and began looking for other targets.

Awesome.

She suddenly heard a very loud gasp behind her, which seemed odd given the intensity of robots attacking the city. A scream was the more commonly accepted reaction. However, before she could turn to see who was underwhelmed with the situation, she caught sight of a particularly vicious backhand of the Hulks that sent a bot straight towards where she stood. Darcy was halfway ducked when a pair of arms grabbed her from behind and she felt something wrap around her.

When she heard glass shatter, but didn’t feel anything, she opened her eyes. And was downright worried for a bit, until she realized that the solid white she saw actually had some shadow and texture to it. She wasn’t dead. Huzzah! And…were those feathers?

She reached out to touch and felt the smooth texture.

Yep. Feathers.

Did that mean an enormous pair of white wings was wrapped around her?

She raised her hand to investigate further and squeaked when she saw her hand.

Something was very, very wrong.

But when the arms around her suddenly loosened and she saw the hands around her middle looked the same shade as hers she let out another squeak and closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening right then. She needed to get back to the tower. She couldn’t get distracted by colors. And shades. And her soulmate!

Whoever it was gently turned her, and after a deep breath, she opened her eyes again.

He was attractive. Make that very attractive. All chiseled jaw and very well-arranged features. And she wasn’t sure what color his eyes were, but it might have been quickly becoming her favorite.

“Hey.”

His lips turned up as he spoke and she felt cliché as her breath hitched.

“Hi.”

“I’m not the only one seeing things a bit differently, am I?”

She couldn’t keep in a nervous giggle.

“Nope”

But then she heard another frustrated howl from the Hulk, and looking over handsome soulmate’s shoulder (She really needed to get a name for him. Although, he was looking pretty familiar, so maybe she should know it already.) At that moment, there was most definitely another squidbot flying directly towards them.

“DUCK!” she yelled as she yanked him down by his collar.

It wasn’t until they were hunkered down on the sidewalk, his wings brushing the ground, her hands still holding onto black leather, that she realized it was one of the Xavier-issued X-Men outfits. Her soulmate was a mutant. With enormous wings.

Suck it, Dylan!

Her soulmate might have taken his time, but he was way cooler than Sarah from down the street!

And then Darcy realized she was smiling maniacally as she still clung to the guy’s catsuit.

“Sorry about that.”

She let go and patted the leather as though it needed smoothing.

He only grinned at her.

“I should probably get you out of here, huh?”

She shrugged.

“Possibly. But I’ve been in worse.”

He looked at her skeptically, but helped her stand, keeping a hand on her elbow. Once they both were upright, he stepped closer, bringing his other hand to her waist.

At her raised brow, he let out a chuckle.

“It’ll be faster if we fly.”

And he unfurled his wings halfway. Darcy might have had to shake herself. Apparently wings did it for her. Ahem.

“Right,” her voice came out a bit high and she blinked rapidly for a moment. “Flying. Let’s do this."

She took a deep breath through her nose.

"And let's hope I don’t puke this time.”

He hesitated and leaned back to look at her face.

“You’re prone to getting airsick?”

“Only when I’m not surrounded by tons of metal and strapped safely into a seat that’s fully in the upright position.”

His hands twitched at her sides.

“How often do you not fly in planes?”

“Uh, well. That one time with Thor. And the one time Tony said I wouldn’t puke when he took me flying. Spoiler alert. Totally puked.”

“Tony. As in Stark?”

“Bingo.”

Another Hulk roar rang out and Darcy cringed, quickly twisting her hair and tucking it down the front of her shirt. Flying with Thor had taught her the hard way not to obstruct the flyer’s vision.

“Okay, I’d rather not have another flying piece of scrap metal try to become firmly acquainted with my face. Shall we go?”

He laughed and stepped closer to wrap his arms around her waist.

“And just where am I taking you?”

“Avengers Tower. Where else?”

He shook his head in slight disbelief, pulling her flush with his chest and lifting her so she could firmly wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“You ready?”

Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and nodded tightly.

“As I’ll ever be.”

She was proud that there was only a squeak when he took off. However, she may or may not have brought both of her legs up to cling more solidly to her new soulmate. Who, come to think of it; X-Men, wings, gorgeous… her brain suddenly connected the pieces. Warren Worrington III. The third! Holy shit.

But soon she felt their momentum shift, meaning they were flying straight up, and her stomach dropped, once again reminding her of the very acidic lunch of spaghetti she’d wolfed down earlier. That would not be fun to relive. So, she forced herself to slowly breath and not freak out, instead burrowing closer and focusing on the smell of cologne and leather.

Thankfully it wasn't too long before there was a jolt as his feet landed on the roof, and things finally stopped moving. She heard his wings rustling as he pulled them close. And she kept clinging.

“I believe we’re here.”

She ignored his chuckle and kept breathing.

“And I’m making sure I don’t lose my lunch because some joker decided he needed to bring me up to the Stark landing pad instead of the front door.”

She felt his shrug instead of seeing it as her eyes were still very tightly shut.

“Wanted to make sure you didn’t get stuck outside because of the excitement.”

Darcy let out a snort, but slowly forced her legs to release his middle. She didn’t let go of his neck however, especially as her face was still buried where the skin met leather and wasn’t about to deny enjoying it.

Warren gently held on, letting her just breathe for a minute before speaking quietly.

“Do I get to know the name of soulmate, or do I have to go and try to get it out of Stark?”

She leaned back quickly, still not fully letting go, and gave him a glare.

“If I’m not the one who gets to tell him my soulmate is one of the Leather Brigade, you may not _survive_. You'll wish you could rue the day.”

“Leather Brigade?”

She loosened her arms to playfully tug on his collar, making him look down and shrug.

“Fine. I’ll give him that one.”

He glanced back to her, one side of lips twitching up, still lightly holding onto her waist as he waited for her to answer his first question.

She stared at his eyes for a second wishing she had a name for the color.

But that could wait.

“Darcy. Darcy Lewis.”

He inclined his head.

“Darcy. I like it. And I’m assuming since you haven’t asked my name, you might already know who I am.”

She shrugged.

“When you live with an ultra-rich superhero, you tend to hear about the others. But I’ll give you this, Tony does like you better than Batman.”

He snorted but then glanced back towards the distance where the violent human/mutant and cyborg negotiations were probably still going on.

“Well, Darcy. I believe I should get back to the party.” He stepped back, but kept his eyes on her face. “Should I stop by later?”

“If you want.” She forced a nonchalant shrug and tipped her head back towards the rest of the tower. “You know where to find me.”

Warren nodded and began to pivot away, before pausing and turning back, a cocky grin slowly stretching across his face.

“How about a kiss for good luck?”

She bit her lip to keep from giggling.

Nothing like adrenaline to make her act like a school girl.

“I’m good luck, huh?”

“Well, you’re my soulmate. I’m kinda hoping you’re bringing me more than just the HD viewing experience of the world.”

She huffed out a laugh and stepped forward, once again grabbing hold of his collar.

“Well, when you ask so politely.”

He met her halfway, quickly pulling her nearer and improving the angle. His hands came to rest on her hips and she found herself pressing closer.

But she pulled back before she could get too breathless. He had superhero things to do after all. Saving the city. Smashing robots to smithereens. However, she may have smiled a little goofily while looking into his eyes.

“Get out of here. You’ve got robots to wrangle.”

He chuckled, walking backwards towards the edge of the tower and giving her half a wave.

“I’ll see you later.”

Darcy couldn’t hold back her inhaled squeak when he leapt over without looking behind him, broad grin focused on her. But soon he was soaring over other buildings and she let her breath out.

She kept watching him as he faded into the distance, remembering his eyes as he smiled at her

Yep.

She was gonna go ahead and just declare that her favorite color.

But before she could get too mushy, her phone blared Tony’s ringtone once again.

“Stark!"

"Lewis. You're alive?"

"I’m alive. And I have good news and bad news.”

She let out a long cackle.

“You know it always make me nervous when you laugh like that.”

“Why else would I do it?”

She heard his sigh, but noted that there weren’t too many repulsor blasts going, so the battle must be dying down. Good, she had plans to get underway. She turned back towards and door and blew a kiss at the camera when Jarvis let her in without her having to ask.

“Okay, what’s the good news?”

“I’m going to be able to help you with your next suit redesign."

"Huh?"

"I’ll help make sure you don’t wind up looking like ‘Robocop meets slutty Christmas tree’ as Clint claims you do now.”

He let out a frustrated grunt, but then caught up with the first part of her promise.

“You’re gonna help me with colors?”

“Yep.”

“No shit. Who’s the poor sod?”

Darcy didn’t bother trying to keep from cackling as she leaned back against the elevator door, picturing the grimace that when along with his groan.

“This is the bad news. Please, for all that is holy, tell me it’s not some hipster you picked up on your way through the Garment District.”

Another cackle.

“Nope.”

He let out a long sigh.

“That’s not very comforting.”

“Well... I’m just planning out dinner for when we have the X-Men over tonight.”

“The X- Me…No. No! NO! Tell me you did not imprint on one of the Cats Boyband wannabes!”

He hung up when all she did was hysterically laugh in response.


	21. Board Shorts and Tequila Shots (Darcy/Owen Grady)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark decides he needs to up the crazy. Thankfully he first brings in an outside consultant. Someone who happens to have great thighs, and speaks the words that have affected Darcy's opinions of men's summer apparel all her life.

“I’m buying an island!” Tony exclaimed, arms raised as though expecting applause as he walked into the common room.

Those that were present either ignored him or watched silently, especially as Pepper came in immediately behind him, eyes tight and left hand tapping her thigh.

“Tony, for the last time. It’s just an invitation. We still have to do research into if we’d be able to properly maintain the island, let alone care for and contain the-”

“Come, on Pep,” he cut her off. “You know that those are all just technicalities that are delaying the inevitable. I’m going to the be the best Bond villain ever!”

“Tony-”

But he wasn’t listening, and instead turned to the assembled group. Darcy bit her lip to keep from saying anything about the expression Pepper directed to the back of his head. Besides, Jarvis would document the hand gestures at least.

“How do you guys feel about a trip to Central America?!”

“No. No! NO!” Pepper waved her arms vehemently. “If we are seriously doing research it will all be done here, from the safety of the continental US, with no threats beyond the normal to our lives!”

Darcy had no idea what was going on and looked around to see if anyone else did. Clint sat folding paper airplanes, pretending not to pay attention, Natasha lounged in a chair sharpening her favorite knife probably not paying any attention, and Sam actually watched the bickering pair with interest, probably texting the details to Steve as they developed.

So, she wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

When she turned back, Tony still had that smug grin and Pepper was visibly controlling her anger. Apparently yoga with Bruce had been paying off. Not to mention the fact that thankfully that whole extremis thing had been taken care of. But, Darcy still felt like she owed Pepper. The woman was amazing no matter what, but she had distracted Tony with a dying Hammer Industries subsidiary to ostentatiously buy out the week earlier, preventing a Jane meltdown at the genius’ insistence she let him him rewire a couple of her machines.

Time to step into the fray; figuratively, of course.

“Alright, Stark. I know you’re dying to explain what you think is _sheer brilliance_. So how about you actually give us some details.”

He gave her a grand wave.

“Thank you, Lewis. I think I will.”

He puffed up his chest. But Pepper was way ahead of him, speaking fast, arms now folded across her chest, hip popped, and eyes narrowed.

She meant business.

“He was offered a deal to buy Isla Nublar.”

There were a couple of gasps at that--Clint as he stopped pretending not to listen. And Tony who shot Pepper an injured look.

She just raised a brow and stared.

“Your thunder needed stealing. Deal with it.”

With a short, emphatic nod, she loosened her stance to walk over to the couch and plop next to Darcy, sinking into the cushions with a sigh.

There was a sound of paper crinkling and Darcy looked over at Clint.

“Are you seriously thinking of buying it?”

He had rushed to get the question out as he leaned forward, paper airplane half crumpled in his hands while he stared at Tony unblinking.

Pepper let out a snort without bothering to open her eyes from where she now was one with the sofa.

“He is. I’m not.”

“You just don’t understand the meaning of fun,” Tony muttered.

Darcy saw Pepper’s left hand twitch, about to start her habitual “I’m about ten seconds away from shanking you with a letter opener” tick and decided to cut in again.

“I don’t know if an island full of deadly creatures that still don’t have a fully known death count qualify as fun.”

"Thank you," Pepper breathed.

Darcy patted the woman's knee and refused to look at Clint. Weirdo totally would think it was fun. She already knew that. If she never had to watch one more video of a renegade mosasaurus, it would be too soon.

Tony directed a disappointed look her way.

“Come on, Lewis. Even you have to understand the momentous nature of a situation like this.”

“Yeah, I understand the momentous stupidity that is a theme park full of predators and weak, squishy humans around.”

He huffed.

“Come on. There’s no way I’d pull a Hammond. I'm not buying it for a public attraction. I actually want to prevent someone else from doing that. But I need to find someone to give me the real low-down, not the politicized or whitewashed sales pitch.”

“Yeah, good luck with that one.”

“Actually-”

All eyes turned to Sam who had continued to watch silently.

“I may know a guy.”

Natasha actually snickered at the comment, but kept sharpening her knife without a word.

Sam knew a lot of guys.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tash,” Sam chuckled. “But really. There was this guy from my military days. He was on that island when the whole thing went down.”

“Really?” Tony murmured, lifting a hand to tap at his chin. “Who is it?”

“Owen Grady.”

“NO SHIT!”

Clint was now staring at Sam without blinking.

“Seriously, Clint. The dead-eye excitement stare is a bit much.”

Darcy would have commented further, but figured that Natasha hadn’t finished switching his coffee with decaf swill, so he was probably still counteracting with extra energy drinks in the afternoon. A twitchy, easily startled Clint in the evenings had proven rather entertaining. Especially when it was Natasha that did most of the startling for Darcy to watch. And she wasn’t about to give up that ruse, yet.

Natasha didn’t say a word, just continued sharpening the blade to the finest of points. However, the flick of the deadly assassin’s eyes at Darcy and the twitch of her lips told her it was a wise choice.

“But Owen Grady, Darce. He’s-”

“I know, he’s the Raptor Whisperer, your man-crush, and the hero of half the video clips you had me watch last year.”

He finally blinked, but didn’t deny it.

“Wait, he’s the guy with the raptors?”

Sam nodded at Tony who had asked the question, and was looking very interested now.

“And you can get him here?”

“Probably. He still owes me a couple favors.”

The billionaire nodded, beginning to talk to himself.

“And he could give proper advice on containment, how to care for the dinosaurs, what really happened, and how to avoid it happening again.” He nodded, beginning to turn this way and that as he spoke. “How soon can you call him?”

“I don’t know, how soon can you fix my wings you’ve been holding hostage for ‘upgrades’?”

Tony hummed in thought.

“Oh hell.” Pepper let out a long whimper of a groan. “We’re buying an island.”

 

* * *

 

 

Darcy grunted as she stretched across the ground, trying to fetch Jane’s favorite screwdriver from under the piece of equipment Tony had let it roll beneath. He was still tinkering on said equipment, unappreciative to Jane’s need for her tools to be put back where he got them from. When she finally got her hand around the plastic handle, she contemplated shoving the screwdriver into his foot.

But before bodily harm could take place, the lab doors swished open and Darcy saw Sam’s feet walk in. Right next to a pair of boots that were connected to legs with a rather impressive pair of thighs.

“Holy luscious legs, tin man.”

There was a choke, most likely from Sam, and Darcy popped up to look over the top of the table and see a face and shoulders that were just as good as the thighs. A face that definitely held an amused expression at having heard her comment.

He grinned and shot her a wink, but she had to focus on Tony’s complaining at that moment, as he jabbed her in the ribs with the wrench he held.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Lewis? It’s a gold titanium alloy.”

She waved her hand dismissively.

“Uh huh. Whatever makes you feel special,” she said turning back to the man she recognized from so many news reels she’d sat through with Clint.

He stood, hands easily held at his sides, watching her with the same pleased smile.

Tony once again ruined the moment as he sighed and turned to where Sam was chuckling.

“Yes, wingless one?”

“I come bearing one dinosaur expert as promised. Play nice, Darce.”

She pursed her lips, not about to promise anything, but Tony was nodding in obvious excitement.

“Wingless wonder for not much longer it is!” He turned to the newcomer. “Tony Stark genius, billionaire, you know the rest.”

“Owen Grady,” he said with a chuckle as they briefly shook hands. “I hear you’re planning on buying the shitshow that is Isla Nublar.”

“That I am. But you’re here to help keep me from making it another shitshow.”

Owen nodded his head with a considering turn of his lips.

“Hold up,” Sam cut in before introductions could continue. “I wanna know when I get my wings. I delivered. Now it’s time for you to, Stark.”

“I told you I have the plans ready. It’ll just be a couple days. For both the wings and the new uniform.”

“New uniform? I _know_ I did not approve any uniform you designed. I want to see these plans before you do anything else!”

Darcy smiled at the one Owen Grady, rolling her eyes and turning to set the screwdriver down on right bench before she forgot.

By the time she turned back around, Tony was pulling plans and designs up and she heard Sam let out a squawk.

She ignored them, though, as Owen sauntered around the edge of the table holding out his hand to shake hers. His skin was slightly rough, but his shake firm and lingering.

“Back to the introductions,” he teased with a flirty smirk. “I feel I should begin by saying you should really see me in shorts.”

Darcy swallowed, reflexively clenching the hand he still held, the other grabbing at her left hip where those very words trailed around towards her thigh.

After blinking for a couple seconds, she felt her lips pulling up into an unstoppable grin.

“Good thing. I always did judge a man by his calves.”

His hand twitched and his eyebrows shot up. But then that flirty grin took on a new level of promise, and she felt him begin to pull her closer. Or maybe she was just gravitating. She was good with either.

“Spandex?!”

“What? It’s in right now.”

“And no way do you think I’d ever go out showing off that much meavage.”

Darcy let out a snort and shook her head.

Trust Tony and Sam to not notice anything else right then.

With a head tilt to the arguing duo, she began pulling Owen behind her.

“How about we go actually finish introducing ourselves and leave these dorks to work out the proper ratio of tight pants to man cleavage.”

 

* * *

 

 

There were some people who always joked that Darcy would be the type to meet her soulmate and immediately drag him off to bed. But brash humor and licentious jokes aside, she figured it would be good to actually get to know this Owen Grady a bit first. Seeing as how they both had had some pretty interesting death-defying job assignments in the last year, it might prove extremely interesting. So, she took him up to Jane’s rooms. He might as well get the boss lady seal of approval before he got to see the good stuff.

When they got to Chez Foster, the woman’s hair was in a haphazard updo, held in place by two pens, and holding at least three forgotten pencils at odd angles. But Jane tore herself away from her computer and notebook long enough to display all the requisite emotions at such a moment.

Surprise.

Excitement.

Curiosity.

Protective anxiety.

Suspicion.

But then Owen earned points by actually having heard of Jane’s research.

And he definitely had the mad scientist seal of approval when he complimented Darcy's choice of action once he heard why she was sometimes called Sparky and Thor’s shield sister. Any man who encouraged her assistant’s self-preservation skills was good in Jane’s book. Especially as so many of their fellow tower residents didn’t.

But meeting a tolerable soulmate of her bestie didn’t keep her from soon drifting back to the counter where she’d left her notebook.

So, Darcy rolled her eyes and dragged Owen to the couch so she could start finding out what she needed to know.

“Okay, first things first. And you gotta be honest with me here.”

He leaned back into the couch, shifting to face her as he lifted one hand to rest on the couch behind her shoulders, and crossed the other over his heart.

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

She squinted at him, but wasn’t deterred.

“There was a pretty famous picture of you and a certain redhead in a liplock making its rounds last year. Care to explain what that was?”

"You really worried about that?"

She held up her hands as she thought out her response while speaking.

"Not worried, per se. Just curious as to what brought that on. And what, if anything, ended that. I want to have all my bases covered. So, yes. What was that kiss about?"

He grunted and shrugged his rather massive shoulders. Seriously. She’d have to get him side-by-side with Steve for a comparison.

“Eh, I almost died. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“At the time, huh?”

He nodded, a rueful grin pulling one side of his mouth up.

“Yeah. Turns out near-death experiences don't necessarily give you a whole lot in common.”

She nodded slowly, now able to relax into a slouch.That picture had been pretty dang famous, and she hadn't wanted to be the cause for anyone breaking up. Soulmate or no.

“Yeah. I know that feeling. You’d think almost dying together would be a pretty good basis, right?”

Jane snorted before she chimed in.

“Yeah tell him about Ian.”

“Hey, you're supposed to be sciencing!”

In a moment of sheer maturity and professionalism, Jane stuck her tongue out.

“I can multitask.”

Owen chuckled and turned to face her more, pulling his leg up on the couch to tuck his ankle under his other knee.

“So, who’s this Ian?”

She hedged.

“Well, he was my intern-”

“Fake intern!”

She didn’t bother to look away from the glint in Owen’s eyes when she yelled back.

“I believe you told _me_ to tell him this story, so _I’m_ telling him. You go back to your Science!”

After no further comments from the peanut gallery, Darcy continued.

“Ian was my intern during the whole London Elves from the wrong side of Mirkwood debacle. There was near death, there was a kiss, and then he decided to embrace life after almost dying. Dropped out of Cambridge and joined a world music band.”

Owen tilted his head.

“That’s not _that_ bad.”

“He played the lute.”

“Okay, yeah….

“And decided to start going by his first name, ‘not denying who he was anymore’,” she finished with proper air quotes.

“What was that?”

“Hubert.”

After he finished laughing, which took a while, she had him tell her the story of how he met Sam. Including the accidental nudity during a poker game, and how you actually wind up training dolphins for the Navy anyway.

“So you went from military and majestic sea mammals to crazy rich people and prehistoric reptiles? That’s one hell of a resume.”

His eyes crinkled at the corner and his lips thinned as he restrained a smile.

“Somehow I doubt yours was very boring when it went from poli sci to superhero science.”

She lifted a shoulder nonchalantly.

“True, there was some coffee fetching, then alien chasing, then alien ass-kicking in there.”

“Preach!” Jane called as she continued scribbling.

Darcy laughed when she caught sight of Jane’s lifted fist, held aloft as she forgot to lower it in the middle of scribbling. With a fond headshake, she turned back to Owen. 

He was quiet, watching her. And as she looked into his eyes, she remembered Sam telling her stories about Owen nursing a random stray dog in Iraq, or skyping with a buddy's daughter to tell her how to take proper care of her bunny. And it made her wonder.

“Okay, but why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you sign up for training the raptors. I’ve heard all these things about you being all mushy over animals, yet you chose to join a program that discussed the weaponization of velociraptors from the very beginning.”

He gestured with the hand he’d rested on the back of the couch.

“It was working with dinosaurs. How could I pass that up?”

Darcy tipped her head in acknowledgement, but then he sighed and looked directly at her, holding her gaze.

“And honestly?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t think they’d be crazy enough to actually try it. A lot of programs get started and then scrapped because they realize it’s batshit crazy or will never work. I figured this was one of them.”

“Dude." She paused to emphasize her point. "They were crazy enough to breed raptors again after the first few Jurassic Park fiascoes. Why wouldn’t they have been crazy enough to try and use them?”

He reached up to scratch at one cheek, resting his head in his hand, balancing his elbow on the back of the sofa.

“I know. Hindsight. 20/20 and all that.”

“But, seriously. Raptors? You weren’t worried about working with something that could take a chunk out of you just to say hi, let alone if it really wanted to eat you?”

He started gesturing again, getting more into the topic.

“I never got that close. And they weren’t going to eat me. I imprinted on them when they were born.“

She couldn’t hold back a snicker, and he stilled.

“Did you seriously just say that with a straight face?”

His brows furrowed.

“Yeah, it's the technical term.”

Darcy’s lips parted when she realized he was serious, and she took a deep breath through her mouth, trying to calm down.

“Sorry, I guess I just had that phrasing ruined for me because of Twilight.”

His eyes narrowed and he turned his head, but she caught a mutter about Stephanie Meyer misusing all kinds of terms.

“Wait. You read it?”

He shrugged again, this time lowering his hand closer to her shoulder; close enough she could feel the warmth through her shirt.

“There's not much to do with downtime in the military.”

She ignored the heat from his hand, and the feeling of his fingers tapping that she could feel through the cushion. He had introduced the topic and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“Okay. Downtime or no, I’m kind of surprised that was your guys’ reading material.”

He half shrugged, tapping faster.

“One of the guys was reading it, some rule he had about making sure what his daughter read was appropriate, so he read it first. He finished ‘em and then the copies made their way through the rest of the guys. They weren't _too_ bad.”

Darcy opened her mouth, but Jane spoke up before she could get a sound out.

“Nope. Not going there, Darcy. Before you get on your Stephanie Meyer rant, I’m kicking you out. I would like to actually get some work done.”

She turned, to look at her boss over the back of the couch, resting her chin on Owen’s forearm.

“I thought you were multi-tasking.”

It was definitely a nice forearm, Darcy thought looking down.

“Well, now I’m uni-tasking, so scoot!”

With a snicker she glanced back at Jane, catching a knowing smirk, and figured it was best to listen.

“I love when you talk all grandma to me, boss lady.”

She stood, holding a hand out to Owen.

He readily took it, and she pulled him up off the couch and out of the room, blowing a raspberry at Jane as they made their way out.

 

* * *

 

 

The common room would have lead to all the Avengers getting up in her business, and she just met her soulmate. She did not need that. All dates she'd had since moving in with them were bad enough. Plus, she didn’t know which room or even which floor he’d been assigned. So, she wound up taking him to her room.

Admittedly, she could have asked Jarvis where Pepper had stationed their guest, but Owen didn’t know that.

When the got into her suite, she directed him to her couch as she made her way to the kitchen.

Darcy went around to the corner cabinet, pulling out a top-shelf bottle of tequila that Tony had left behind in the lab one day and she hadn’t bothered to mention. She grabbed the small beakers she and Jane had liberated from Bruce’s lab and designated as the only appropriate shot glasses, and made her way back to the Owen, who was looking at her appreciatively.

She had intended to play her version of 20 questions, where a shot allowed you to skip a question. But it turned out neither of them had much shame. After most embarrassing high school and college stories, favorite guilty pleasures, and a friendly debate over the best animal to be during a zombie uprising, the game quickly turned into her drinking to hold back a groan whenever Owen was a little shit and would subvert one of her questions.

“Why did you actually agree to come here and help Stark? I would have thought you would be dead tired of dinosaurs after almost getting eaten by them. Plus, who wants to work for Stark?”

He laughed, having already heard her explanation that she worked for Jane, who got her money from Stark Industries funding, which came from Pepper, so she technically, did not in fact, work for Stark.

“Well, inviting girls to consult in my suite at Stark Tower does sound a lot nicer than than consulting in my bungalow.”

Shot.

“Favorite kiss?”

“Australian.”

“She was Australian?”

“Nope.” He waggled his brows, his head inclined as he leaned in. “Down under.”

Shot.

So she tried mixing things up.

“Favorite position?”

He hesitated, and she thought she’d finally won.

“Well, I’ve usually curled up on my left side, but always wind up on my back at some point during the night.”

She shook her head with a laugh. Apparently he could hold his own.

Good.

He’d need it.

“Seriously, my bunkmate used to complain about the snoring.”

Before he could continue on with that train of purposeful misinterpretation, she fired off another question.

“Submissive or dominant?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Well I always dominate on Nintendo 64.”

She almost went for a shot, but then he shrugged.

“I guess I’ve never been very submissive at anything. I’ve always had issues with authority.”

“And yet you joined the military.”

“I know, right?”

“So, why did you join the military?”

“I thought I’d look sexy in the uniform. Wanna see me in my class A’s?”

Shot.

“Favorite item of clothing?”

He leaned forward, his breath skitting across her face as he chuckled.

“Yours.” He watched her eyes as he licked his lips. “On my floor.”

This time, she didn’t reach for the beaker. Instead, she pulled has face to hers with her hand twisted in his collar. It was sloppy at first, but they soon find a rhythm.

And then things began to get very interesting.

However, Darcy had never been a coordinated drunk. She wound up lying on top of Owen, trying to get to a point where she could get more of his wonderful calluses on every inch of her skin. And she got stuck half-in, half-out of her sweater. After a couple seconds of flustered struggles, she collapsed on top of him in a fit of giggles.

“My clothes don’t seem to approve.”

He chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down her back underneath the sweater.

“No rush.”

She practically purred at the feeling of his calluses on her skin, and stretched out on his chest, relaxing into his touch. She breathed for a couple minutes, listening to his heartbeat as she calmed down from her frantic scrambling.

And that was how she woke up.

Sprawled on top of Owen as he snored, still half wearing her sweater, her head pounding and her face awkwardly shoved in his armpit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were curious, my Are You My Mother? story was going to the be the lead in for this. But now you get two very different worlds!


	22. Of Saunas and Soulmates (Darcy/Scott Lang)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy never expected to meet her soulmate when so very under dressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Darcy stumbled into the wall, clutching her towel closer. Trust some idiotic baddie to attack the one spa she had gone to for her Pepper-provided birthday present. And of course they showed up right in the middle of her sauna time. 

There weren’t any doors to duck into, so she slowly sat in a far corner as she tried to force her breathing to slow. Too much steam immediately followed by too much adrenaline and too much running were turning into a bitch of a combination. 

She just hoped Natasha or Bruce found her first. There was no guarantee she could keep herself covered unconscious. And gentlemen or not, the other guys were too much her bros to let her live this one down. But then everything began to pitch to the side.

* * *

A couple moments later, Darcy slowly blinked her eyes open. Her head hurt like no other and the ground was digging into her hip where she lay on her side. Oh, and her head was in someone’s lap. That was unexpected.

Was that leather?

With a groan, she turned to see a smiling face she didn’t recognize. And upside down or not, he was wearing what looked like a very bizarre helmet. And she lived with Stark. She knew weird helmets.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Her heart rate sky-rocketed, which wasn’t doing anything for her headache, so she closed her eyes. If she wasn’t feeling so dizzy, she’d be inclined to fold herself over to look at the words printed across the bottom of her foot. 

“Where the hell did you come from? And what are you wearing?”

She felt the thigh under her head tense, jostling her, and she let out another groan.

“Holy shit. You’re my soulmate.”

“That seems to be the case.”

With a hiss, Darcy moved to sit up and felt his hands pushing her shoulders to help her.

Once upright, she sat silently, breathing for a couple minutes until things felt more solid. When she turned and looked at her new soulmate again, his eyes were bright, brimming with excitement as he smiled goofily at her.

“So what do we do now? We should probably talk, shouldn’t we? Bond as soulmates and all. Bonding is good.”

A slow smile spread across her face at his eagerness.

“You know, you’re actually cuter than I was expecting.”

Because, really. He was quite cute. Hazel eyes and dark hair. Plus the superhero suit definitely helped promise that there would be something else good about him. And she knew it was a hero outfit, because if she was honest, it was rare for bad guys to look that dorky.

“Good. That’s good.”

He had breathed out his response, and she let out a chuckle, focusing on his face as came closer.

Oh, so they were going to kiss? She was down for that. She was still too woozy to give it her best, but she was definitely down for that.

And then he continued talking.

“I think you’re pretty cute too. You know, even though you’re almost naked.”

He stilled.

And then kept talking.

“Well, not that I don’t think you’d look good naked, because I’m pretty sure you would, and I’d definitely like to find out, you being my soulmate and all.”

Darcy sighed, leaning back against the wall behind her.

“You’re kind of ruining the moment there, _soulmate_.”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, I do that.”

“Right.” She nodded and stood, appreciating when he grabbed her elbow as she wobbled halfway up. “So, what is your name anyway?”

“Oh, right,” he stood up straight, pulling off the rest of helmet.

She smiled at the admittedly adorable helmet hair that he awkwardly ran his hand through before giving her half a wave.

“Hi, I’m Scott.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to swing on by, I'm [awww-brain-no](http://awww-brain-no.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!


End file.
